THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

GIFT  OF 

MABEL  R.  GILLIS 


i 


r 


CRICKET    WENT    TO    THE    WINDOW    AND 
PEEPED  OUT  " 


CRICKET   AT   THE 
SEASHORE 


BY 

ELIZABETH   WESTYN   TIMLOW 

AUTHOR  OF  "  CRICKET  :  A  STORY  FOR  LITTLE  GIRLS 


ILLUSTRATED   BY 

HARRIET   ROOSEVELT   RICHARDS 


BOSTON 
ESTES   AND   LAURIAT 

PUBLISHERS 


Copyright,  1896 
BY  ESTES  &  LAURIAT 


Colonial  $ress: 

C.  H.  Simonds  &  Co.,  Boston,  Mass.,.  U-  S.  A. 


fzl 


TO 


577432 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.    OLD  BILLY 11 

II.  A  BROKEN  WHEEL        ....       21 

III.  CRICKET'S  DISCOVERY  ....       33 

IV.  KEEPING  STORE 45 

V.  A  BATH  IN  CURDS  AND  WHEY   .        .61 

VI.     BEAR  ISLAND 79 

VII.     THE  EXILES 101 

Vm.     A  NEW  PLASTER 117 

IX.  GEORGE  W.  AND  MARTHA    .        .        .132 

X.     THE  ECHO  CLUB 147 

XI.     THE  "ECHO" 165 

XII.  THE  HAIRS  OF  His  HEAD   .        .        .180 

XIII.  A  WRESTLING  MATCH  ....     192 

XIV.  PLAYING  NURSE 204 

XV.     A  KNITTING -BEE 213 

XVI.  Two  LITTLE  RUNAWAYS       .        .        .223 

XVII.     HILDA  ARRIVES 237 

XVIII.  A  SAILING  PARTY         .        .        .        .251 

XIX.  BECALMED                                                       267 


6  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 
CHAPTER 

XX.  A  NEW  HIDING-PLACE 

XXI.  BILLY'S  PRAYER    .... 

XXII.  HELEN'S  TEXT 323 

XXIII.  THE  JABBERWOCK          ....     333 

XXIV.  AFTER  THE  SACRIFICE  ....     344 
XXV.  THE  END  OF  THE  SUMMER  .        .        .     359 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PAGE 

"  CRICKET  WENT  TO  THE  WINDOW  AND  PEEPED 

OUT  "......          Frontispiece 

OLD  BILLY  TELLS  His  STORY  TO  THE  TWINS  .  31 
LANDING  ON  BEAR  ISLAND  .  .  .  .87 
THE  EXILES 99 

FEEDING    GEORGE    WASHINGTON.  —  "  CRICKET 

BORE  OFF  HER  CHARGE  TO  THE  KITCHEN"     137 

"  SHE  BURIED  HERSELF   IN  HER  NEXT  STORY 

FOR  'THE  ECHO'" 205 

HILDA'S  ARRIVAL        ......     235 

"CRICKET   SAT    DOWN   ON   THE    BEACH   WITH 

THE  CHILDREN  "  .  293 


CRICKET  AT  THE   SEASHORE 


CRICKET  AT  THE  SEASHORE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

OLD    BILLY. 

THE  summer  at  Marbury  had  begun.  On  the 
20th  of  June,  after  seeing  the  Europe -bound 
party  off  for  New  York,  the  Ward  children  had 
arrived,  bag  and  baggage,  under  Auntie  Jean's 
escort. 

Early  the  first  morning  after  their  arrival, 
Cricket  awoke  Eunice  with  a  punch. 

"  Eunice,  what  do  you  think  I  am  going  to  do 
to-day  ?  and  I  'm  going  to  do  it  every  day  till  I 
succeed." 

"Don't  know,  I'm  sure,"  said  Eunice, 
sleepily.  "  Don't  tumble  round  so.  It  is  n't 
time  to  get  up." 

"  Oh,  you  're  such  a  lazybones,"  sighed 
Cricket,  whose  light,  active  frame  required  less 
sleep  than  Eunice's  heavier  build.  "  It 's  six 
o'clock,  for  the  clock  just  struck.  Now  I  '11  tell 


12  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

you  what  I  want  to  do.  Let 's  dig  in  the  sand- 
banks every  day,  and  see  if  we  can't  find  mam- 
ma's money-bag,  that  she  and  auntie  buried 
there  so  long  ago." 

"  All  right,  and  let 's  search  in  the  cove  for 
the  little  turquoise  ring  you  lost  two  years  ago, 
in  bathing,"  answered  Eunice,  still  sleepily,  but 
with  much  sarcasm. 

"  Now,  Eunice,  you  need  n't  come  out  with 
any  of  your  sarcastic  sinuates,"  said  Cricket, 
tossing  her  curly  head,  "/'w  going  to  do  it 
anyway,  and  I  'm  going  to  find  it.  I  feel  it  in 
my  bones,  as  'Liza  says,  and  I  'm  going  to  begin 
straight  after  breakfast,  if  we  don't  do  anything 
else.  Don't  tell  any  one,  for  I  want  to  surprise 
everybody." 

"  1  think  you  're  safe  to  do  it,  if  you  want  to. 
I  won't  tell.  Wonder  if  they've  sailed  yet," 
with  a  thought  of  the  travellers. 

"The  steamer  doesn't  sail  till  eleven;  don't 
you  remember  ?  Prob'ly  they  're  just  getting  up. 
Come,  Eunice,  get  up.  I  hear  the  boys,  now." 

Cricket  scrambled  out  of  bed  and  ran  to  the 
window  to  peep  out. 

"  There  they  go  now  for  their  swim.  Boys ! 
Boys !  wait  for  me  !  "  and  Cricket  dropped  into 


OLD    BILLY.  13 

her  bathing  -  suit,  which  had  been  put  out  all 
ready  the  night  before,  and  flew  down-stairs  to 
join  the  boys  in  their  morning  plunge  in  the 
sea,  her  bare  arms  gleaming  from  the  dark-blue 
of  her  suit,  and  bathing  -  shoes  protecting  her 
feet  from  the  sharp  stones  in  the  rough  lane  that 
led  to  the  cove. 

They  had  a  glorious  swim.  At  least,  Will 
and  Archie  swam,  and  Cricket  splashed  under 
their  directions.  She  had  almost  learned  to 
swim  the  last  time  that  she  had  been  at  Marbury 
in  the  summer  -  time,  two  years  before,  and  she 
could  already  float  nicely  and  go  "  dog-paddle," 
but  she  had  great  difficulty  in  making  any  head- 
way in  swimming. 

"  There  !  "  she  sputtered,  in  triumph,  at  last, 
clinging  hold  of  the  swimming-raft ;  "  I  almost 
got  away  from  the  place  where  I  was,  then." 
She  turned  over  on  her  back  to  rest  herself,  and 
float  for  a  moment,  then  prepared  for  another 
start. 

"  I  don't  seem  to  wiggle  my  feet  right.  I  get 
so  destracted  thinking  of  my  hands,  that  I  al- 
ways forget  to  kick.  I  can't  keep  my  mind  in 
two  places  at  once." 

"  Now  try  again,"  said  Will,  good-naturedly. 


14  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

"  See  here.  Draw  up  your  feet  as  you  bring 
your  hands  together  and  kick  hard,  when  you 
throw  them  out.  Go  just  like  a  frog.  That 's 
fine.  Now  again.  Draw  up,  kick  out,  draw 
up,  kick  out  —  fine ! "  and  Cricket,  sputtering 
and  laughing,  drew  herself  up  on  the  swimming- 
raft,  having  really  swum  two  feet.  And  then  it 
was  time  to  go  out. 

The  cove  was  some  little  distance  from  the 
house,  so,  after  scampering  up  the  lane,  their 
bathing  -  suits  were  almost  dry.  There  were 
bathing  -  houses  down  there,  but  for  this  early 
morning  dip  they  liked  better  to  get  into  their 
bathing-suits  at  the  house,  and  dress  there. 

When  Cricket  flew  up -stairs  into  her  room, 
glowing  and  rosy,  she  found  Eunice  only  partly 
dressed,  with  the  sleep  not  half  out  of  her 
drowsy  eyes. 

"  Oh,  you  lazy  thing ! "  cried  Cricket,  retir- 
ing behind  the  screen.  "  You  don't  know  how 
fine  I  feel.  My  skin  is  all  little  prickles." 

"  I  should  n't  think  that  would  be  very  com- 
fortable," said  Eunice,  brushing  out  her  long, 
dark  hair,  and  braiding  it.  «  I  like  to  sleep  in 
the  morning  better  than  you  do,  anyway.  Did 
you  dive  for  mamma's  money-bag  ?  " 


OLD    BILLY.  15 

"You  needn't  laugh  at  me,"  said  Cricket, 
emerging,  half  -  dressed  already.  "  I  mean  to 
find  it.  You  '11  see."  But  she  inwardly  regis- 
tered a  vow  that  she  would  pursue  her  search 
alone. 

The  Ward  children  had  never  spent  much 
time  at  Marbury,  with  grandma,  since  they  had 
their  own  summer  home  at  Kayuna,  in  East 
Wellsboro.  They  had  often  been  there  for  short 
visits,  however,  as  mamma  generally  took  one  or 
another  of  her  little  flock  with  her,  in  her  fre- 
quent trips  to  see  grandma. 

Marbury  lies  in  Marbury  Bay,  which  is  very 
large,  but  so  shallow  that  at  low  tide  the  mud- 
flats are  all  exposed  for  a  long  distance  out.  A 
long  tongue  of  land,  principally  sand -banks, 
stretches  half  around  the  bay,  making  a  break- 
water from  the  ocean,  and  rendering  the  harbour 
a  very  safe  one  for  sailing.  Will  and  Archie 
Somers  were  capital  sailors,  inheriting  their 
grandfather's  love  of  the  sea.  Back  of  the 
house,  over  a  short,  steep  hill,  lay  the  beginning 
of  the  sand -banks,  where  mamma  and  auntie 
had  buried  their  money-bags  long  ago.  Then 
beyond  these  sand-banks,  on  the  ocean-side,  was 
another  deep  small  curve,  called  the  cove,  where 


16  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

the  children  bathed.  It  was  a  safe,  sheltered 
spot,  with  a  good  bit  of  beach.  Altogether,  Mar- 
bury  had  many  attractions. 

What  chattering  and  gabbling  there  was  that 
first  morning  at  breakfast,  when  all  sorts  of 
plans  were  projected  for  the  summer's  amuse- 
ment !  Mrs.  Somers  and  her  children  had  spent 
most  of  the  warm  weather  at  Marbury,  for  years, 
so  that  Will,  and  Archie,  and  Edna  knew  every 
inch  of  the  country  for  miles  around,  and  were 
eager  to  do  the  honours. 

"'Wot  larks'  we're  going  to  have,"  cried 
Archie,  as  they  all  got  up  from  the  table. 
"  Think  of  it,  grandma  !  all  summer  !  whoop !  " 
with  a  shout,  as  he  vanished,  that  made  grandma 
cover  her  deafened  ears  in  dismay,  as  the  whole 
flock  trooped  after. 

"  Dear  me !  mother,"  said  Mrs.  Somers,  pri- 
vately, as  they  stood  together  on  the  piazza,  "  I 
begin  to  think  that  we  've  undertaken  a  great 
deal,  to  keep  this  horde  in  order  for  a  whole 
season.  Can  you  ever  stand  it  in  the  world  ?  I 
scarcely  realized  that  there  would  be  eight  of 
them." 

"We'll  manage  beautifully,"  said  grandma, 
cheerily.  "The  boys  go  to  their  camp  for  a 


OLD    BILLY.  17 

month,  you  know,  and  the  little  girls  will  soon 
settle  down." 

"  Yes,  and  Edna  will  have  to  spend  two  weeks 
with  her  Grandmother  Somers,  at  Lake  Clear, 
as  usual,  and  as  for  the  twins,  Eliza  manages 
them  really  beautifully,  and  Kenneth  is  no  more 
trouble  than  a  kitten.  Eunice  and  Cricket  are 
used  to  running  pretty  wild  all  summer.  If  the 
confusion  is  not  too  much  for  you,  that's  all 
I  'm  thinking  of." 

"  And  I  'm  on  special  police  duty,"  broke  in 
Arthur,  popping  up  from  behind  the  vines. 
"  I  '11  chuck  the  baddest  ones  overboard  any  time 
you  say." 

"  And  there 's  old  Billy  for  special  guard 
duty,"  added  auntie,  laughing.  "  See  him  now, 
poor  old  fellow  !  he  does  n't  know  whether  he 's 
scared  out  of  his  few  wits,  or  whether  he  likes 
the  commotion." 

Grandma  followed  auntie's  glance. 

"  He  likes  it,"  she  said,  "  for  see,  he' s  bring- 
ing out  his  music -box,  and  that's  the  highest 
honour  he  can  pay  any  one." 

I  must  stop  right  here  and  tell  you  about  old 
Billy,  for  he  was  a  life-long  institution  at  grand- 
ma's. I  wish  I  could  make  you  see  the  dear 


18  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

old  fellow  as  I  see  Mm  now,  in  my  mind's  eye. 
A  tall,  thin,  bent  old  man  he  was,  not  much 
over  fifty,  in  reality,  though  he  looked  seventy. 
A  shock  of  rough  gray  hair  stood  out  all  over 
his  head,  and  a  gray,  tousled  -  looking  beard 
covered  half  his  face.  A  pair  of  keen,  startled- 
looking  eyes  flashed  sharp,  observant  glances 
this  way  and  that,  from  under  his  shaggy  eye- 
brows. Few  words  he  had  on  any  occasions, 
but  he  generally  spoke  straight  to  the  point. 

A  sad  story  had  poor  old  Billy.  He  had  been 
a  bright  lad  in  a  neighbouring  village,  and,  when 
he  was  about  eighteen,  had  come  to  work  for 
Captain  Maxwell.  He  was  very  faithful  and 
responsible,  and  soon  became  a  fixture  on  the 
place.  Then  poor  Billy  one  day  got  a  terrible 
fall  in  the  barn,  and  was  taken  up  for  dead. 
However,  he  was  not  dead,  only  unconscious, 
and  terribly  hurt.  He  had  a  long  and  severe 
illness,  during  which  Mrs.  Maxwell  had  him 
carefully  nursed  and  cared  for  in  her  own  home. 

At  length  he  recovered,  but,  alas!  his  poor 
mind  was  hopelessly  affected,  and  the  doctor  said 
that,  though  he  might  be  much  better,  he  would 
never  be  quite  right  again.  Everybody  thought 
they  ought  to  send  him  to  the  poorhouse,  as  he 


OLD   BILLY.  19 

had  no  home  to  be  sent  to,  but  Captain  Maxwell 
refused  to  do  this.  So  he  stayed  on,  and,  grad- 
ually, as  he  grew  stronger,  he  took  up  some 
simple  duties  again.  However,  he  had  forgotten 
everything,  even  how  to  read. 

But  he  was  very  happy  in  his  dim  way,  for  he 
did  not  realize  all  that  had  happened  to  him. 
So  several  years  passed,  when  suddenly  a  law- 
yer's letter  was  received,  stating  that  William 
Ruggles  was  heir  to  a  large  amount  of  money 
from  a  brother  who  had  gone  West  many  years 
before  and  had  never  been  heard  of  since.  He 
had  died  leaving  no  family,  and  no  other  heir 
than  Billy. 

Of  course  there  was  a  great  deal  of  trouble- 
some law  business  to  be  adjusted,  but  the  end  of 
it  was  that,  a  few  months  later,  Billy  was  in 
possession  of  a  small  fortune.  The  next  ques- 
tion was,  what  to  do  with  him.  He  could  not 
stay  on  as  a  servant  at  the  Maxwells,  and  he 
was  entirely  unable  to  take  care  of  himself. 
Captain  Maxwell  had  been  appointed  his  guard- 
ian, and  trustee  of  his  property.  There  chanced 
to  be  a  small  unused  building,  once  an  office,  on 
the  grounds,  and  this  was  easily  changed  into  a 
suitable  abode  for  Billy.  He  had  his  little  sit- 


20  CRICKET   AT   THE    SEASHORE. 

ting-room,  bedroom,  and  kitchen,  and  some  one 
to  take  care  of  it  and  of  him,  and  here  lived 
Billy,  as  happy  as  a  king.  When  Captain  Max- 
well died,  Mrs.  Maxwell  took  Billy  as  one  of  her 
legacies,  and  here  he  probably  would  end  his 
days. 

It  was  hard  at  first  to  make  him  understand 
that  he  need  not  do  any  more  work,  and  yet 
could  have  what  he  called  his  "pay,"  just  the 
same,  for  it  was  useless  to  tell  him  about  his 
property.  His  allowance  had  to  be  a  small  one, 
for  it  was  soon  found  that  generous  Billy  emp- 
tied his  pockets  on  all  occasions  to  any  one 
asking.  So  his  allowance  was  limited  to  twenty- 
five  cents  a  week  in  his  own  hands,  but  the 
spending  of  his  "  dollar,"  as  he  always  called  his 
quarter,  gave  him  quite  as  much  pleasure  as  if 
it  had  been  hundreds.  He  always  spent  this  for 
tobacco  and  peppermint  candy,  his  two  luxuries. 

Mrs.  Ward  and  Mrs.  Somers  had  been  little 
girls  of  ten  and  twelve  when  Billy  first  came 
there,  and  all  through  their  childhood  he  had 
been  their  devoted  slave,  for  the  poor  soul  was 
patience  and  fidelity  itself.  And  to  the  second 
generation,  old  Billy  was  as  much  part  of  the 
landscape  as  the  bay  itself. 


CHAPTER  II. 

A    BROKEN    WHEEL. 

"  LET  's  take  a  ride,  the  very  first  thing  we 
do,"  said  Eunice,  eagerly,  after  breakfast.  "  I  'm 
wild  to  get  behind  Mopsie  and  Charcoal  again," 
for  the  ponies  had  been  sent  over  from  East 
Wellsboro  for  the  children's  use. 

"  1  'm  going  to  —  •"  began  Cricket,  and  then  she 
stopped,  remembering  that  she  was  going  to 
surprise  the  family  with  what  she  felt  sure 
would  be  the  result  of  her  mining  explorations, 
—  the  finding  of  mamma's  long  -  buried  money- 
bag. But  then,  she  could  dig  any  time,  she 
reflected. 

So  Luke,  the  man,  brought  up  the  ponies, 
harnessed  to  the  little  cart,  that  was  getting  to 
be  close  quarters  for  Eunice  and  Cricket,  to  say 
nothing  of  Edna. 

"  Dearest  old  Charcoal !  "  said  Eunice,  caress- 
ing her  pony,  as  he  rubbed  his  affectionate 
head  against  her  shoulder,  expecting  sugar ; 
"isn't  it  lovely  to  have  him  again  !  But, 
Cricket,  don't  you  think  he  is  really  getting 


22  CRICKET   AT   THE    SEASHORE. 

smaller  all  the  time  ?  Last  summer  his  head 
came  above  my  shoulder,  and  look  at  him  now ! " 

"  Does  it  occur  to  you  that  your  shoulder  may 
be  growing  above  his  head  ? "  suggested  Auntie 
Jean,  laughing.  "  Unless  you  put  a  brick  on 
your  head,  I  am  sadly  afraid  that  you  would  n't 
be  able  to  ride  Charcoal  next  summer." 

"  When  Eunice  and  Cricket  are  big  ladies, 
Helen  and  I  are  going  to  have  the  ponies.  Papa 
said  so,"  piped  up  Zaidee. 

"  Dear  me !  "  said  Cricket,  mournfully.  "  I 
wish  I  could  take  a  tuck  in  my  legs.  I  don't 
want  them  to  get  so  long  that  I  can't  ride 
Mopsie.  Get  in,  girls.  Hello,  Billy!  If  we 
had  any  room,  we  'd  take  you,  too." 

Billy  grinned. 

"  Old  Billy  can  walk  as  fast  as  them  little 
tikes  can  run,"  he  said,  with  scorn. 

"  All  right,  then,  you  come,  too,"  said  Edna, 
jumping  into  the  cart ;  "  you  jog  along  behind. 
Don't  you  want  to  ? "  And  off  started  the  little 
cavalcade,  with  Cricket  driving,  because  she  was 
the  smallest,  and  could  perch  up  on  the  others' 
knees,  while  old  Billy,  all  beam,  jogged  after, 
making  almost  as  good  time,  with  his  long  legs 
and  shambling  gait,  as  the  ponies. 


A   BROKEN    WHEEL.  23 

Back  of  Marbury  there  are  miles  of  level 
roads,  almost  free  of  underbrush,  intersected  in 
every  direction  with  roads  and  lanes,  and  one 
can  drive  for  hours  without  leaving  the  shelter 
of  the  stately  forest  trees. 

They  had  been  riding  for  an  hour  or  more, 
laughing  and  singing,  and  shouting  sometimes, 
since  there  was  no  one  to  be  disturbed,  when 
suddenly  one  wheel  went  over  a  big  stone,  which 
Cricket,  in  glancing  back  to  see  if  Billy  were  in 
sight,  did  not  notice  and  turn  out  for. 

"  Look  out,  Cricket !  "  warned  Eunice,  but  too 
late.  Thump  came  down  the  wheel  and  crack 
went  something,  and  in  a  twinkling  down  came 
one  side  of  the  cart,  while  the  wheel  lay  on  the 
ground.  The  well -trained  little  ponies  stood 
still  at  the  first  "  whoa ! "  and  the  children  were 
out  in  a  flash. 

They  looked  at  each  other  in  dismay.  How 
should  they  get  the  cart  home  again  with  only 
one  wheel  ? 

"  And  we  must  be  twenty  miles  from  home," 
said  Eunice,  soberly. 

"  Oh,  no,  we  're  not,"  said  Edna,  for  as  she 
usually  spent  her  summers  at  Marbury,  she 
knew  this  country-side  well.  "  Only  two  or 


24  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

three  miles,  that's  all.  You  see  we've  been 
driving  around  so  much  that  it  seems  longer, 
but  it 's  not  really  far.  This  lane  leads  out  on 
to  the  Bainbridge  road,  by  the  old  Ellison  Place, 
and  that 's  only  two  miles  from  home.  But, 
after  all,  nobody  may  come  along  here  for  hours 
to  help  us  about  the  cart." 

Just  then  old  Billy  came  lumbering  up  around 
the  curve  behind  them. 

"  Sho,  now ! "  he  said,  surveying  the  wreck. 
"  Wheel 's  come  off." 

"  Exactly  so,  Billy.  Now  the  question  is, 
can  we  get  it  on  ?  "  returned  Eunice. 

But  something  was  broken,  and  getting  it  on 
proved  impossible. 

"  Billy  carry  the  cart,"  suggested  that  indi- 
vidual, who  had  a  high  opinion  of  his  own 
strength. 

"Well,  hardly,  Billy,— but,  oh,  I  have  an 
idea !  Billy,  you  hold  up  the  cart  on  that  side, 
so  it  will  run  on  the  other  wheel  as  the  ponies 
draw  it,  and  Cricket  can  lead  them,  and  Edna 
and  I  will  roll  the  wheel  along.  You  said  it 
wasn't  far,  Edna." 

Billy  lifted  the  side  of  the  cart,  obediently, 
while  Cricket  started  the  ponies  forward.  This 


A   BROKEN   WHEEL.  25 

worked  very  well.  Then  Edna  and  Eunice 
armed  themselves  with  sticks  and  found  that 
their  new  variety  of  wheel  rolled  in  fine  style, 
with  a  little  persuasion. 

"  What  a  come  down,"  laughed  Eunice,  "  We 
start  out  in  state,  and  we  come  back  on  foot." 

"  Let 's  play  we  're  a  triumphant  procession," 
instantly  suggested  Cricket,  the  fertile  of  re- 
source. "  I  '11  be  the  emperor,  what  was  his 
name  ?  The  one  that  conquered  Zenobia.  I  '11 
be  that  one,  and  Billy  is  one  of  my  slaves,  a 
captive  of  war,  and  you  can  be  Zenobia,  Eunice, 
and  you're  her  daughter,  Edna,  coming  into 
Rome  at  the  head  of  my  procession  after  you  're 
conquered.  You  go  ahead  singing  *  Hail  to  the 
Chief.'  That's  it;  march  along  like  that. 
Now  don't  go  too  fast.  I  really  ought  to  be 
riding  in  the  cart,  but  I  'm  afraid  Billy  could  n't 
hold  me  up,  so  I  '11  play  I  'm  tired  of  riding  in 
state.  Play  we  haven't  come  into  the  city 
yet."' 

"  I  can't  think  how  '  Hail  to  the  Chief '  goes," 
said  Eunice,  after  one  or  two  attempts  at  the 
tune.  "  I  keep  getting  into  '  Hail  Columbia 
happy  land.'" 

"That  won't  do,  for  this  is  Rome  and  not 


26  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

Columbia  we're  coming  to.  This  is  the  way 
that  '  Hail  to  the  Chief '  goes,"  and  Cricket 
sang  the  first  line. 

Now  Cricket,  alas,  was,  unfortunately,  abso- 
lutely devoid  of  voice  to  sing.  She  loved  music 
dearly,  but  she  could  not  keep  to  a  tune  to  save 
her  life.  Like  a  certain  modern  heroine,  she 
could  not  even  keep  the  shape  of  the  tune. 
Consequently,  unless  the  girls  had  known  the 
words,  they  could  not  have  told  whether  she  was 
singing  "  Old  Hundred,"  or  "  Tommy,  make 
room  for  your  uncle." 

Edna  and  Eunice  almost  doubled  up  with 
laughter.  Edna  sang  like  a  little  woodthrush, 
and  Eunice  also  had  a  sweet  and  tuneful 
voice. 

"Oh,  Cricket,  you'll  kill  me,"  gasped  Edna. 
"  Your  voice  goes  up  when  it  should  go  down, 
and  down  when  you  ought  to  go  up,  and  the  rest 
0f  the  time  you  go  straight  along." 

Cricket  looked  injured,  for,  strange  to  say, 
she  was  sensitive  on  the  subject.  She  loved 
music  so  dearly,  that  she  never  could  understand 
why  she  could  n't  make  the  sounds  she  wished 
come  out  of  her  little  round  throat. 

"  I  never  pretended  that  I  thought  I  could  be 


A   BROKEN    WHEEL.  27 

singeress  to  the  President,"  she  remarked,  with 
dignity.  "Anyway,  if  I'm  emperor,  I  have 
people  to  sing  for  me.  Begin,  Zenobia." 

"  I  don't  know  '  Hail  to  the  Chief,'  "  said  Edna. 
"  Let 's  sing  '  Highland  Laddie ' —  I  love  that," 
and  Edna  piped  up  in  a  gay  little  voice,  that 
startled  the  birds  overhead,  and  presently  at- 
tracted the  attention  of  two  prowlers,  who  were 
getting  birds'  eggs  for  their  collection. 

"  The  kids  have  had  an  accident,"  said  one  of 
them,  peering  through  the  trees.  "  Hi !  there  ! " 

"  There  are  the  boys,"  said  Eunice,  as  the  "  tri- 
umphant procession  "  halted  at  the  voice.  "  Come 
and  help  us,"  she  called. 

"  No,  we  don't  want  any  help,"  said  Edna,  mov- 
ing on,  "  and  boys  are  such  a  bother.  Don't  call 
them."  But  the  boys  needed  no  calling,  and  so 
she  added,  with  decision,  "  You  can't  come  with 
us  unless  you  behave  yourselves." 

"  We  're  a  triumphant  procession,"  explained 
Cricket,  "  and  you  must  go  behind  and  be  slaves. 
I'm  the  emperor  that  captured  Zenobia,  and 
Edna  and  Eunice  are  Zenobia  and  her  daughter. 
They  're  to  march  in  front,  singing,  and  Billy  is 
one  of  my  captives  who  carries  my  chariot  because 
the  wheel  came  off,  and  these  are  my  elephants 


28  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

that  draw  it.  Ho,  there,  base  minion !  are  you 
tired  ? "  for  Billy  was  grunting  a  little  under  his 
burden. 

"  Guess  one  of  them  boys  better  spell  old  Billy 
a  little,"  suggested  the  slave,  putting  down  his 
side  of  the  chariot,  and  mopping  off  his  face  with 
his  red  bandanna.  "  Cart 's  kinder  heavy  when 
you  carry  it  so  fur.  Hurts  your  hand,  too." 

"  That 's  so,  boys,"  said  the  emperor,  stopping 
her  diminutive  elephants.  "  Do  help  him,  please. 
There,  now,  Zenobia  and  her  daughter  are  almost 
out  of  sight.  Put  your  eggs  and  things  in  the 
cart,  Will, —  I  mean  in  the  chariot.  Now  let 's 
start.  Billy,  you  can  walk  in  front  of  me  now." 

They  started  on  again,  the  boys  holding  up  the 
side  of  the  demoralized  chariot,  and  keeping  up 
a  fire  of  jokes. 

"  Next  time  you  're  emperor,  Marcus  Aurelius, 
see  that  your  groom  looks  after  your  chariot 
wheels  before  you  start,"  said  Archie,  finally. 
"  It  would  be  inconvenient  to  have  a  wheel  come 
off  when  you  're  making  a  charge,  and  it  would 
give  your  majesty  a  nasty  fall." 

"  Yes,  my  grooms  are  getting  very  careless.  I 
think  I  '11  make  gladiolas  of  them,  and  get  some 
new  ones.  I  captured  a  couple  of  pretty  fair 


A   BKOKEN    WHEEL.  29 

looking  slaves,  a  little  while  ago,  that  I  'm  think- 
ing will  do.  If  they  don't,"  she  added,  severely, 
"  I  '11  cut  off  their  'heads,  and  put  them  in  a  dun- 
geon." 

"  Don't  do  that.  I  'd  rather  you  'd  make  a 
'  gladiola '  of  me,  too.  I  don't  mind  so  much 
about  my  head,  but  don't  put  me  in  a  dungeon. 
See  here,  emperor,  next  time  you  break  down, 
please  do  it  within  easy  reach  of  your  ancestral 
halls.  The  side  of  this  chariot  hurts  my  hands, 
and  I  wouldn't  demean  myself  so  for  any  one 
but  your  majesty." 

"That's  too  bad.  Shall  I  carry  it  a  little 
while  ?  "  asked  the  emperor,  sympathizingly,  as 
they  turned  into  the  main  road.  "  My  hands  are 
pretty  strong." 

"  No  ;  your  humble  slaves  can  manage  a  little 
longer." 

"  It 's  a  good  mile  home,  now,"  said  Archie. 
"  See  here.  The  blacksmith  shop  is  not  far  down 
the  road.  We'll  leave  the  cart  there,  to  be 
mended.  Edna !  Eunice !  Stop  at  the  black- 
smith's." 

So  the  "  triumphant  procession  "  came  to  a 
halt,  while  the  ponies  were  unharnessed,  and  the 
cart  and  wheel  left  for  repairs.  Cricket  mounted 


30  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

Mopsie,  with  the  boys  walking  beside  her,  while 
Billy  stalked  along,  leading  Charcoal,  since  Eu- 
nice and  Edna  were  walking  along  together. 

Will  was  very  fond  of  his  merry  little  cousin, 
who  laughed  at  his  jokes,  took  his  teasing  good- 
naturedly,  and  loved  and  admired  him  with  all 
her  heart.  He  was  nearly  sixteen,  big  and  strong 
of  his  age,  and  Cricket  thought  him  the  nicest 
boy  in  the  world.  She  was  not  nearly  so  fond 
of  Archie,  who  was  a  year  younger  than  Will. 
He  teased  her  more,  was  quicker-tempered,  some- 
what conceited,  and  rather  liked  to  order  the 
girls  around.  He  was  slight  and  small  for  his 
age,  and  he  did  not  have  his  reddish  hair  for 
nothing. 

Auntie  met  them  at  the  gate,  with  an  anxious 
face. 

"  What  has  happened,  children  ? "  she  asked, 
resignedly. 

"Nothing,  much,  auntie,"  answered  Cricket, 
cheerfully.  "  We  lost  the  cart-wheel  off,  that 's 
all.  It  was  real  fun  coming  home.  We  left  it 
at  the  blacksmith's  to  get  it  mended." 

"  So  you  've  begun  already,"  said  auntie,  laugh- 
ing, but  relieved. 


"OLD    BILLY    TELLS    HIS    STORY    TO    THE    TWINS 


CHAPTER  III. 
CRICKET'S   DISCOVERY. 

OLD  BILLY  sat  in  the  front  yard,  under  a  big 
tree,  telling  stories  to  the  twins.  Perhaps  I 
should  say  telling  a  story,  for  Billy's  range  was 
limited  to  a  single  tale,  and  when  he  had  told 
this,  if  any  child  wanted  more,  he  simply  had  to 
tell  it  over  again.  It  was  a  story  with  a  moral, 
and  was  drawn  from  Billy's  own  experience.  It 
was  about  a  bad  little  boy,  who  ate  up  all  his  sis- 
ter's pep'mint  drops.  This  was  the  worst  of 
crimes,  in  Billy's  eyes,  for  to  him  pep'mint  drops 
were  a  sacred  possession,  not  even  to  be  lightly 
referred  to. 

"  His  mariner,"  went  on  Billy,  impressively, 
"  kep'  a-whippin'  him,  an'  a-whippin'  him,  but  it 
warn't  no  kind  o'  use,  an'  did  n't  do  a  mite  o' 
good.  And  just  think,  children,"  finished  Billy, 
solemnly,  "  when  that  bad,  naughty,  selfish  little 
boy  died,  he  could  n't  go  to  Heaven  and  be  a 
good  little  angel,  but  he  had  to  go  to  the  Bad 
Place." 

The  children  listened  with  wide-open  eyes. 


34  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

"  Where  is  the  Bad  Place,  Billy  ? "  questioned 
Zaidee,  looking  interestedly  up  into  Billy's  face. 

Billy  looked  slowly  all  about  him,  and  above 
him,  and  then  at  the  ground,  puzzled,  now,  what 
to  say.  He  was  not  very  clear,  himself.  He 
looked  again  at  the  blue  sky,  flecked  with  soft, 
white  clouds. 

"  Wai,  I  think,  children,"  he  said,  in  his  slow 
way,  "  that  Heaven  is  up  there  where  all  them 
little  bright  specks  is  at  night.  I  guess  them's 
holes  in  the  floor.  Can't  see  'em  daytimes,  you 
know,  when  the  lights  are  out,  up  above.  'N'  I 
ruther  guess  t'  other  place  is  down  under  there, 
pointing  to  the  ground." 

Helen  jumped. 

"Oh,  I  don't  want  it  right  under  our  foots. 
The  ground  might  crack,  Billy,  and  we  'd  fall  in. 
Please  don't  say  it 's  there,"  she  begged,  ear- 
nestly. 

But  Zaidee  immediately  began  to  poke  the 
ground  with  great  interest,  and  stamp  hard  upon 
it. 

"  Do  you  really  think  it 's  down  there,  Billy  ?  " 
she  asked,  excitedly.  "  Oh,  Helen,  let 's  dig  and 
find  it !  How  far  down  is  it,  Billy  ? " 

"  Wai,  now,  I  dunno  as  it 's  down  there  at  all. 


CKICKET'S  DISCOVERY.  35 

Dunno  as  it  is,  dunno  as  it  is.  Folks  say  it 's 
purty  hot  there." 

"  I  know  a  nice  place  to  dig,  Helen,  and  that 's 
the  sand-banks.  They  're  so  nice  and  soft. 
Let 's  go  and  try  it." 

But  Helen  hung  back,  and  Billy  said,  anxiously, 
"  I  would  n't.  Folks  say  that  Somebody  lives 
there." 

"  Who  ?  "  demanded  Zaidee. 

"  Wai,  folks  says  as  Mr.  Satan  lives  round 
them  parts,"  answered  Billy,  cautiously. 

"  Oh,  don't  let 's  dig,  Zaidee,  I  'm  afraid,"  said 
timid  little  Helen,  clinging  to  Zaidee's  hand. 
"  He  might  not  like  it,  if  we  finded  him." 

Zaidee,  always  more  daring  than  her  delicate 
little  twin,  did  not  think  so. 

"  'Course  we  '11  be  careful  not  to  bunk  right 
into  him,"  she  conceded.  "  We  '11  dig  very  slowly 
when  we  get  pretty  near  there.  Come  on,  Helen. 
Want  to  come,  Billy  ?  " 

"  Sho,  now  ! "  said  Billy,  looking  very  unhappy 
over  this  unexpected  result  of  his  little  moral 
tale.  Once,  long  ago,  a  mischievous  boy-visitor 
had  taken  and  eaten  all  Billy's  peppermints,  and 
he  never  forgot  it.  He  always  took  occasion  to 
tell  it  as  a  story  to  every  little  newcomer,  to 


36  CEICKET   AT    THE    SEASHOKE. 

ensure  the  safety  of  his  valued  peppermints,  but 
no  one  had  ever  thus  applied  the  story  before. 

"  Seems  as  if  I  would  n't  try,  children,"  he 
repeated,  anxiously.  "  You  might  tumble  in." 

But  when  Zaidee's  mind  was  once  set  on  an 
enterprise,  nothing  could  turn  her.  She  ran 
away  for  the  shovels  and  dragged  reluctant 
Helen  with  her.  They  selected  a  nice  hollow 
place  in  the  sand,  and  began  to  dig  furiously. 
In  a  few  minutes  they  had  a  hole  a  foot  deep. 
Zaidee  balanced  herself  on  the  edge,  on  her 
knees,  and  put  her  hands  down  on  the  bottom 
of  the  hole. 

"  I  do  think  it 's  getting  hotter,  Helen,  just 
feel." 

Helen  put  her  hand  down,  rather  fearfully. 

"  It 's  getting  very  hot,  Zaidee,  and  don't  let 's 
dig  any  more." 

"Don't  be  a  'fraid  cat,"  responded  Zaidee, 
promptly.  « It 's  only  a  little  bit  hot.  We 
must  dig  until  it's  ever  so  much  hotter  yet," 
and  Zaidee  went  on  throwing  up  the  sand, 
energetically. 

"  Oh,  dear !  how  it  all  slides  down  the  sides. 
I  '11  have  to  get  in  it  and  dig,"  she  said,  pres- 
ently. 


CRICKET'S  DISCOVERY.  37 

"  Don't!  don't ! "  cried  Helen,  in  great  terror, 
clutching  Zaidee  with  both  hands.  "  Don't  go 
down  there.  You  might  tumble  right  through 
any  time  right  on  Mr.  Satam's  head ! " 

But  Zaidee,  unheeding,  jumped  into  the  hole, 
and  went  on  digging,  sturdily,  while  Helen, 
frightened  and  apprehensive,  watched  her  from 
above.  Suddenly  she  shrieked  in  new  terror : 

"  Oh,  Zaidee !  come  out !  please  come  out ! 
I  see  the  feathers  on  his  cap  sticking  right  up 
there !  oh,  you  '11  hit  him  in  a  minute,  and  he  '11 
jump  up !  "  for  "  Mr.  Satam,"  and  Indian  chiefs, 
with  waving  plumes,  and  tomahawks,  formed 
a  very  confused  picture  in  her  mind. 

Zaidee  scrambled  up  in  a  flash. 

"  Where  ?  Where  ?  "  she  cried,  peering  down 
when  safe  above.  Truly,  at  the  bottom  of  the 
hole  was  seen  the  top  of  a  feather  dropped  from 
a  sea-gull's  wing,  and  buried  under  the  drifting 
sand,  but  the  startled  children  never  doubted 
that  it  was  growing  fast  on  the  top  of  "  Mr. 
Satam's "  head,  and  they  waited  in  terrified 
silence  for  that  head  to  rise  and  confront  them. 

Meanwhile,  Billy  was  wandering  around  in 
great  anguish  of  soul,  not  knowing  what  dread- 
ful thing  might  happen  any  moment.  He  started 


38  CKICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

back  to  the  house  at  last.  Cricket  came  skip- 
ping down  the  piazza  steps. 

"  See  here,  young  'un,"  Billy  began,  eagerly, 
—  he  seldom  called  the  children  by  their  names. 
"  I  'm  afraid  suthin'  dretfuPs  goin'  to  happen." 

"  What 's  the  matter,  Billy  ?  Why,  how  your 
hands  shake ! " 

"  Perhaps  you  can  stop  'em,"  went  on  Billy, 
hurriedly ;  "  them  ere  little  tikes  is  a-doin'  a 
dretful  thing.  They  're  over  by  the  sand-bank, 
a-diggin'  fur  —  hell."  He  brought  out  this  last 
word  in  a  deep,  half -frightened  whisper. 

"  Digging  for  what?  Oh,  Billy !  "  and  Crick- 
et's laugh  rang  out.  "  You  know  better  than 
that.  Where  are  they?  I'm  going  to  dig  a 
little  myself,  and  they  might  help  me." 

Billy  looked  a  little  shamefaced  at  Cricket's 
laugh. 

"  Don't  you  think  they  could  get  there,  then?" 
he  asked,  looking  relieved.  "  I  don't  really  know 
just  where  't  is,  myself.  Did  n't  want  them  little 
tikes  to  come  to  no  harm,  that 's  all." 

"  Billy,  think  how  silly  of  you  to  think  that 
place  is  under  the  ground.  Think  how  men 
dig  wells  and  mines,  and  things,  and  nothing  ever 
happens,  unless  they  cave  in,  or  something  like 


CKICKET'S  DISCOVERY.  39 

that,  which  does  n't  count,"  said  Cricket,  skip- 
ping and  dancing  on,  as  usual,  while  Billy 
shambled  along  by  her  side.  "  I  'm  just  ashamed 
of  you." 

Billy  looked  crushed. 

"  I  s'pose  I  'm  a  silly  boy,"  he  said,  meekly, 
for  the  poor  old  fellow  was  never  anything  but 
a  boy  in  his  own  eyes.  "  See  here,  don't  say 
nothin'  to  Mis'  Maxwell,  will  you  ? "  he  added, 
anxiously. 

Just  then  the  children,  who  still  stood,  fright- 
ened yet  curious,  by  the  hole,  caught  sight  of 
them  coming.  They  both  made  a  wild  rush  and 
caught  Cricket's  hands. 

"  I'm  so  'fraid,  Cricket,"  half  sobbed  Helen. 
"  Zaidee  digged  for  the  Bad  Place  and  we  've 
most  found  it,  and  there's  a  feather  of  Mr. 
Satam's  head,  sticking  right  up,  and  I  'm  'fraid 
he  may  bounce  up  and  get  us." 

Cricket  doubled  up  with  laughter. 

"  Oh,  you  silly  children !  You  're  thinking  of 
a  red  Indian,  I  guess.  That 's  nothing  but  some 
bird 's  feather.  If  you  dug  long  enough,  you  'd 
come  to  China,  that 's  all." 

"  But  it  got  so  hot,  Cricket,"  insisted  Zaidee, 
"  an'  Billy  says  it 's  awfully  hot  there." 


40  CKICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

"  'Course  it's  hot  when  you  dig  down,  hecause 
the  centre  of  the  earth  is  all  burning  up,  you 
know,  but  I  don't  think  you  '11  get  far  enough  to 
get  scorched  any.  You're  silly  children,  any 
way,"  finished  Cricket,  with  a  very  elder-sisterly 
air. 

Nevertheless,  Helen  did  not  feel  secure  until 
Cricket  had  jumped  into  the  hole  and  pulled  up 
the  feather,  triumphantly. 

"  Now  I  'm  going  to  dig  myself,"  with  a  deep- 
laid  purpose  in  her  mind, "  and  you  may  dig,  too. 
You  start  another  hole,  right  here.  I  '11  dig  this 
big  one  out  more,  and  I'll  be  an  incubus" 
meaning  nobody  knows  what  —  "  and  live  in  it, 
and  you  be  little  crabs  trying  to  get  out  of  my 
way  in  these  holes  of  yours." 

The  children,  quite  reassured  now  as  to  the 
safety  of  their  pet  amusement,  dug  away  mer- 
rily, while  Billy,  like  an  amiable  Turk,  sat  cross- 
legged  near  by. 

The  shifting  stretches  of  sand  changed  their 
shape  year  by  year  with  the  wind  and  rain,  and 
Cricket  had  no  definite  idea  of  the  exact  locality 
of  the  spot  where  mamma  and  auntie  had  buried 
their  money-bags,  thirty  years  before.  She  en- 
larged the  hole  the  children  had  begun,  till  it 


CKICKET'S  DISCOVERY.  41 

was  quite  an  excavation,  carrying  on  her  game 
of  "  incubus "  with  the  children  all  the  time. 
At  last  she  concluded  to  sit  down  and  rest. 
She  planted  herself  in  the  bottom  of  the  hole, 
with  her  curly  crop  not  visible  above  the  top  of 
it.  She  pulled  up  her  sleeve,  plunging  her  hand 
idly  in  the  dry,  cool  sand,  till  her  arm  was  buried 
far  above  the  elbow.  Then  her  hand  struck  a 
resisting  object. 

"Oh,  oh!"  she  shrieked,  immediately,  not 
daring  to  move  her  hand  lest  she  should  lose  the 
object,  which  might  prove  what  she  was  search- 
ing for.  It  was  too  large  to  bring  up  through 
the  weight  of  sand. 

"  Come  here,  Zaidee,  quick,"  she  cried.  "  Dig 
me  out.  Dig  out  my  arm,  quick." 

Helen  looked  fearfully  into  the  hole,  then  set 
up  a  shriek  in  her  turn. 

"  Mr.  Satam  's  got  Cricket's  hand,  and  he 's 
holding  her  down.  Pull,  pull,  Zaidee,"  and  the 
child  began  tugging  at  Cricket's  nearest  shoulder, 
which  she  could  reach  without  committing  her- 
self to  the  dreadful  possibilities  of  that  hole. 
Zaidee  instantly  jumped  in,  however,  and,  scream- 
ing, herself,  added  her  small  strength  to  pull  up 
Cricket's  arm,  while  Billy,  startled  by  this  sud- 


42  CKICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

den  hubbub,  ran  distractedly  from  side  to  side, 
trying  to  find  something  to  pull,  likewise  adding 
his  peculiar  "  Hi !  Hi !  "  his  expression  of  great 
excitement.  Cricket  laughed  so  at  the  general 
uproar  that  she  could  not  explain. 

"  Oh,  children,"  she  managed  to  cry  at  last. 
"  Stop  pulling  the  sockets  out  of  my  arms  —  I 
mean  the  arms  out  of  my  sockets.  Goodness, 
Zaidee,  how  you  pinch!  There  isn't  anybody 
down  there,  but  I  've  got  hold  of  something  and 
I  don't  want  to  lose  it.  Just  dig  down  around 
my  arm,  that 's  all.  Stop  crying,  Helen.  That 's 
a  good  girl,  Zaidee."  And  so  in  a  few  minutes, 
by  their  united  exertions,  a  hole  was  scraped 
around  Cricket's  arm,  and  she  could  bring  up 
the  object  she  was  grasping. 

"  What  is  it  ? "  cried  the  excited  little  twins. 
Cricket  plunged  both  hands  under  the  object, 
and,  if  you  '11  believe  me,  she  actually  brought 
up  a  little  buckskin  money-bag. 

"Hoo-ray!"  she  shrieked,  wild  with  delight 
at  her  discovery.  "  It 's  mamma's  bag,  children, 
that  she  planted  ever  so  long  ago,  when  she  was 
a  little  girl.  There 's  money  in  it." 

The  bag,  indeed,  had  been  perfectly  preserved 
all  these  years  in  the  sand.  The  sand -banks 


CRICKET'S  DISCOVERY.  43 

there  were  too  high  to  be  ever  overflowed  by  the 
tides,  and  were  very  dry,  even  to  the  depth  of 
many  feet.  But  the  string  fell  to  pieces  in 
Cricket's  eager  hands  as  she  tried  to  unfasten 
it,  and  the  pennies  and  dimes  came  to  view. 

A  few  minutes  later,  the  young  woman, 
breathless  and  excited,  flew  up  the  walk,  with 
the  twins  toiling  on  behind.  Auntie  Jean  and 
grandma  were  sitting  on  the  porch,  when  sud- 
denly a  shower  of  dull-looking  coins  fell  into 
auntie's  blue  lawn  lap. 

"  I  've  found  it !  "  Cricket  cried,  triumphantly. 
"  Knew  I  would.  Won't  I  laugh  at  those  girls 
now!" 

"  But  what  in  the  world — "  began  Auntie  Jean, 
in  amazement,  hastily  transferring  the  heap  to  a 
newspaper.  Cricket  waved  the  chamois  bag  in 
wild  delight. 

"  It 's  one  of  the  bags,  auntie,  that  you  and 
mamma  buried  so  long  ago  in  the  sand  -  banks, 
because  you  thought  it  was  the  right  kind  of  a 
bank  to  put  money  in." 

"  We  digged  the  hole,"  put  in  Zaidee,  eager 
for  her  share  of  the  glory.  "  We  digged  for 
Mr.  Satam's  house,  an'  most  found  him,  an' 
Cricket  came  an'  said  he'd  gone  to  China,  an' 


44  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHOEE. 

then  Cricket  digged  this  up,  and  we're  going 
to  dig  every  day,  now,  and  get  lots  of  money," 
for  the  whole  performance  was  very  mysterious 
in  Zaidee's  mind. 

You  can  imagine  the  clatter  when  the  rest  of 
the  children  arrived  on  the  scene,  and  Cricket, 
flushed  with  victory,  waved  her  bag,  which  had 
been  found  to  have  mamma's  initials  on  it. 
Therefore,  auntie's  was  still  unfound,  and, 
strange  to  say,  it  never  has  been  found,  although, 
after  Cricket's  remarkable  achievement,  the 
sand-banks  in  that  locality  were  excavated  to  a 
point  just  short  of  China. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

KEEPING    STORE. 

IT  was  voted  by  all  that  the  money  in  the  bag 
belonged  undeniably  to  Cricket,  by  right  of  dis- 
covery, but  she  would  not  touch  it  till  she  had 
written  to  mamma  the  astounding  news.  She 
was  very  anxious  to  cable  the  important  an- 
nouncement, and  Auntie  Jean  had  some  diffi- 
culty in  persuading  her  that  a  letter  would 
convey  it  just  as  well.  The  money  only 
amounted  to  two  dollars  and  sixty-four  cents  in 
all,  but  this  was  larger  in  Cricket's  eyes  than 
any  money  she  had  ever  owned  before.  She 
spent  it  in  imagination  a  hundred  times,  and 
the  others  helped  her,  till  even  little  Kenneth 
caught  the  fever,  and  begged  "  Tritet,  buy  Ten- 
net  bikachine,"  his  own  invention  for  bicycle. 

"  Goody !  "  exclaimed  Cricket,  "  that 's  just 
what  I  '11  do  for  myself.  Eunice,  I  'm  going  to 
put  the  money  in  the  really-truly  bank  this  time, 
and  keep  putting  more  in,  and  I'll  save  my 
allowance  and  get  a  bicycle  to  ride  when  I  'm 


46  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

too  big  to  ride  Mopsie.  Wonder  how  long  it 
would  take." 

"  Years,"  said  Eunice,  with  a  cold  -  water  ex- 
pression. "  Why,  Cricket,  bicycles  cost  lots  of 
money.  You  never  could  do  it." 

"  I  can  ride  on  the  boys'  bicycles  when  they 
get  them,  to  learn  how,  and  keep  saving  till  I  'm 
grown  up.  Couldn't  I  get  enough  by  that 
time  ?  Wish  I  could  earn  money." 

"  Keep  a  peanut  stand,"  suggested  Archie. 

"I  wonder  if  I  couldn't,"  said  Cricket,  in- 
stantly attracted  by  the  idea.  "  What  fun ! 
Where  could  I  have  one  ?  I  'd  just  love  to. 
I  'd  have  that  big  white  umbrella  that  used  to 
stand  up  in  the  old  phaeton,  over  my  head,  and 
I  'd  have  a  chair  and  a  table.  Do  you  suppose 
auntie  would  let  me  go  down  on  the  dock  and 
sell  peanuts  ?  " 

"  I  should  think  not !  "  cried  Edna,  horrified. 

"I'm  going  to  ask  her,"  returned  Cricket, 
undaunted.  "  I  '11  make  great  piles  of  money. 
Everybody  will  stop  and  buy  of  me  when  they're 
going  out  sailing.  Peanuts  are  always  good 
when  you  're  sailing." 

"Discount  to  the  family?"  asked  Will. 

"Discount  to   me,  anyway,"  put  in  Archie, 


KEEPING    STORE.  47 

insinuatingly,  "  for  my  suggestion.  Really,  you 
know  you  ought  to  supply  me  free." 

"  Free ! "  replied  Cricket,  with  much  scorn. 
"  I  might  as  well  try  to  fill  up  Marbury  Bay  as 
you,  Mr.  Archie.  I  know  who  ate  twenty-seven 
griddle-cakes  for  breakfast." 

"  Don't  confess  it  right  out  loud,  Miss 
Scricket,  if  you  did  get  away  with  that  number. 
I  'm  not  astonished,  but  I  'm  overcome." 

"Dear  me,"  answered  Cricket,  tossing  her 
curls,  "  you  think  you  're  abdominally  smart,  I 
know,  but  —  " 

A  howl  of  laughter  stopped  her,  and  Cricket 
looked  dismayed.  They  always  made  so  much 
fun  of  her  when  she  made  one  of  her  constant 
mistakes  in  the  use  of  words. 

"  She  means  abnormally,"  shouted  Archie, 
rolling  on  the  ground.  "  Abdominally  smart, 
oh,  my ! " 

"  Well,  abnormally,  if  you  like  it  better,"  re- 
turned Cricket,  amiably.  "I  don't  see  much 
difference,  anyway.  I  am  going  to  ask  auntie, 
right  away,  about  the  peanut  stand,"  she  con- 
tinued, changing  the  subject  quickly,  as  long 
experience  had  taught  her  to  do.  Off  she  ran, 
returning,  jubilant,  in  a  few  moments. 


48  CRICKET    AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

"  Auntie  says  to  be  sure  I  may ;  there,  now, 
Edna ;  she  says  I  may  sell  all  the  peanuts  I  like, 
and  on  the  dock,  if  I  want  to,  and  she'll  give 
me  a  pint  cup  to  measure  them  out  with.  And 
since  you  all  make  so  much  fun  of  it,  I  '11  keep 
it  all  alone,  without  any  partner." 

"  You  might  go  shares  with  me,"  pleaded 
Archie  ;  but  Cricket  was  resolute. 

"  If  you  'd  been  more  polite  to  me,  perhaps  I 
might  have.  Now  I  sha'  n't.  I  don't  know  that 
I'  11  even  sell  you  any." 

"But  I'll  be  partner,  sha' n't  I,  Cricket?" 
asked  Eunice,  accustomed  to  sharing  everything 
with  her  younger  sister. 

"  You  all  laughed  at  me,  first  about  finding  the 
bag,  then  about  the  peanuts,"  she  said,  firmly, 
"and  I'm  going  to  be  my  own  partner.  If  I 
take  any  one  it  shall  be  Billy.  He  never  teases." 

"  But  if  you  put  in  the  capital,"  urged  Archie, 
"  you  should  have  somebody  else  to  supply  the 
experience." 

"All  the  experience  that  any  of  you  would 
supply  would  be  experience  in  eating  them," 
Cricket  replied,  with  severity.  "  Then  I  'd  lose 
my  money  and  my  peanuts,  too.  Good-by.  I  'in 
going  to  make  my  arrangements  now." 


KEEPING   STORE.  49 

"  If  you  buy  your  peanuts  of  old  Simon,  at 
the  corner,  make  him  give  them  to  you  whole- 
sale," called  Archie  after  her ;  and  then  he  de- 
parted on  a  little  private  expedition. 

Cricket  was  busy  all  the  rest  of  the  afternoon, 
getting  her  establishment  together.  First,  a  lit- 
tle, square  table  was  unearthed  in  the  garret, 
and  was  scrubbed  and  polished  by  Cricket's  own 
hands.  Then  the  old  white  phaeton  umbrella 
was  found  and  brushed,  and  a  long  slit  in  one 
side  of  the  cover  mended  with  stitches  of  heroic 
size.  This  was,  with  much  painstaking,  lashed 
firmly  to  the  back  of  the  stout,  wooden  chair, 
contributed  by  the  kitchen.  All  these,  old  Billy, 
proud  and  happy  at  being  selected  as  chief  aid, 
took  down  to  the  little  dock,  where  she  was  to 
set  up  business.  She  decided  to  invest  a  capital 
of  fifty  cents,  not  part  of  her  new-found  funds, 
but  her  private  and  personal  possession,  and  ex- 
pected to  come  out  of  her  venture  a  millionaire. 
She  made  up  her  mind  that  she  would  not  take 
even  Billy  into  partnership,  for  it  would  be  so 
much  fun  for  him  to  buy  peanuts  of  her;  but 
she  graciously  allowed  him  to  go  to  the  village 
store  with  her  the  next  morning,  after  breakfast, 
to  help  her  carry  home  her  stock  m  trade.  She 


50  CKICKET   AT    THE    SEASHOKE. 

would  have  driven  Mopsie,  but  the  cart  was  not 
yet  home  from  the  blacksmith's. 

Acting  on  the  boys'  suggestion,  she  proposed 
to  old  Simon  Hodges,  who  kept  the  village  store, 
that  he  should  give  her  the  peanuts  wholesale, 
and  they  struck  a  bargain  that  she  should  buy 
them  at  nine  cents  a  quart  instead  of  ten,  which 
Cricket  regarded  as  a  most  generous  reduction. 

She  invested  in  four  quarts  to  begin  with. 

"  Say,  little  'un,"  suddenly  proposed  old  Billy, 
nudging  her,  "  why  don't  you  buy  some  o'  those 
pep'mint  drops  long  o'  the  peanits.  I  'd  just  as 
lives  buy  'em  o'  you  as  o'  Simon.  Fact  is,  I  'd 
liver." 

"  What  a  good  idea,  Billy.     'Course  I  will." 

Billy  grinned  from  ear  to  ear. 

"•  How  will  you  sell  them,  Mr.  Simon  ?  " 

Simon,  a  weather-beaten  old  sailor,  who  had 
taken  to  keeping  store  in  his  old  age,  thought  he 
could  sell  her  as  many  as  she  could  take  aboard 
at  the  rate  of  six  for  five  cents,  instead  of  the 
regular  rate  of  a  penny  apiece.  These  pepper- 
mint drops  must  have  been  peculiar  to  Marbury, 
I  think,  for  I  have  never  seen  any  just  like  them 
anywhere  else.  They  were  thick  and  round,  and 
about  two  inches  across,  indented  in  the  middle, 


KEEPING    STOKE.  51 

like  a  rosette.  They  were  not  soft  and  creamy, 
but  hard  and  crunchy,  though  how  much  of  this 
latter  property  rose  from  the  lack  of  absolute 
freshness,  I  am  not  prepared  to  say,  for  it  was  a 
standing  joke  with  the  boys  that  Simon  had  once 
been  heard  to  remark  that  he  had  n't  gotten  in 
his  summer  stock  of  candy  yet.  Some  of  the 
peppermints  were  pink,  and  some  were  striped 
red  and  white.  Cricket  supplied  herself  with 
six  of  each. 

"  That  makes  forty-six  cents,  does  n't  it  ?  I 
ought  to  spend  the  whole  of  my  money,"  she 
said,  twirling  her  half-dollar  on  the  counter. 

"  Tobaccer  ?  "  queried  Billy,  quickly,  thinking 
of  his  other  indulgence.  "  I  'd  just  as  lives  — 

"  Oh,  no,  Billy,  I  would  n't  have  tobacco  for 
anything,  nasty  stuff,"  said  Cricket. 

Billy  looked  dejected. 

"  Did  n't  mean  no  harm,"  he  said,  meekly. 

"  Never  mind,  Billy.    Now  what  shall  I  get  ? " 

"  Lemons,"  suggested  Simon,  deferentially. 
"  I  '11  let  you  have  'em  for  a  cent  apiece,  and 
water 's  cheap.  Lemonade  would  sell  well  these 
hot  days,"  for  Simon  had  been  taken  into  Crick- 
et's confidence. 

"  That 's  a  good  idea,"  beamed  the  small  mer- 


52  CKICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

chant.  "  There  's  the  sugar,  and  I  guess  grand- 
ma would  give  me  that,  and  I  'd  let  her  have  a 
glass  of  lemonade  free.  Yes,  I  '11  take  four 
lemons,  Mr.  Simon,  thank  you.  Now,  Billy, 
you  take  the  peanuts  and  put  the  lemons  in 
your  coat  pocket,  and  I  '11  carry  the  pepper- 
mints." 

Thus  laden  the  two  went  gaily  homeward. 

"  For  goodness  sake  !  look  there,  Billy !  " 
Cricket  suddenly  exclaimed,  as  they  approached 
the  little  dock,  where  they  had  arranged  the 
table,  chair,  and  canopy,  the  night  before.  Ar- 
chie had  evidently  been  busy  during  their  ab- 
sence. He  liked  to  tease  Cricket,  because,  as  he 
said,  she  was  so  "  gamey."  Edna  would  grow 
peevish  and  fretful  if  he  teased  her,  and  his 
mother  would  never  allow  it.  But  Cricket  never 
cared,  and  enjoyed  a  joke  on  herself  as  well  as 
on  any  one  else. 

She  went  into  shrieks  of  laughter,  at  the  new 
decorations  adorning  her  place  of  business. 
From  every  rib  of  the  umbrella  hung  a  little,  live, 
wriggling  crab.  Four  horseshoe  shells,  stuck  up 
on  the  sharp  points,  decorated  the  four  corners 
of  the  table,  and  a  drapery  of  seaweed  festooned 
its  legs,  and  the  back  of  her  chair,  A  flapping 


KEEPING   STORE.  53 

sign  was  suspended  on  one  side,  on  which,  in  big 
letters,  they  read : 


PEANUT    EMPORIUM!! 

SIGN  OF  THE  i  i;  A 1; 
MISS   SCRICKET,    BILLY   &   CO. 

PEANUTS  STRICTLY  FRESH   EVERY  YEAR 
CALL  EARLY  AND  OFTEX 


Billy  glanced  from  Cricket  to  the  peanut  stand, 
and  back  again,  not  knowing  whether  to  join  in 
her  laughter  or  not.  He  did  n't  see  anything 
funny  himself  in  it,  for  he  had  a  horror  of  creep- 
ing, crawling  things. 

"  Drat  them  boys !  "  he  said,  at  length ;  "  how 
be  we  goin'  to  get  them  things  off  ?  " 

"  You  go  get  me  a  basket  and  a  pair  of  scis- 
sors, Billy,"  ordered  Cricket  of  her  willing  slave, 
"  and  I  '11  take  them  away.  Don't  they  look 
funny  ? " 

In  a  very  little  while  the  crabs  were  restored 
to  their  native  element,  the  seaweed  was  thrown 
over  the  dock,  the  chair  and  table  wiped  clean 
and  dry,  and  everything  was  again  in  order. 
The  horseshoe  shells  were  left  sticking  up  for 
ornaments.  Then  she  proceeded  to  lay  out  her 
stock,  and  dispose  of  it  to  the  best  advantage. 


54  CRICKET    AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

Grandma  contributed  a  big  cracked  dish  for  the 
peanuts,  which  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  table. 
The  peppermints  were  arranged  in  a  row,  a  red 
one  and  a  striped  one  alternating. 

"  Now,  Billy,  you  stay  here  and  watch  things 
while  I  go  to  the  house  for  a  pitcher  for  the  lem- 
onade, and  some  tumblers.  I  must  n't  forget  the 
sugar,  either,  and  a  knife.  Oh,  and  the  lemon- 
squeezer.  I  do  hope  everybody  will  keep  out  of 
the  way  till  I  get  it  all  fixed. 

Fortunately,  auntie  had  sent  Edna  and  Eunice 
on  an  errand,  and  had  told  Eliza  to  keep  the 
children  away  till  the  little  merchant  was  ready 
to  begin  her  sales,  so  Cricket  was  left  in  peace, 
as  Archie,  after  he  had  finished  his  adornments, 
had  gone  for  a  sail  with  Will. 

A  little  later,  and  the  peanut  vender  had  every- 
thing in  order.  A  pitcher  of  lemonade  —  not  of 
the  strongest,  it  must  be  confessed  —  was  added 
to  the  table.  At  the  first  signal,  the  twins,  who 
had  been  eagerly  watching  from  a  distance, 
darted  forward,  with  pennies  in  hand,  and  trade 
began.  Then  the  girls  appeared,  and  each  bought 
a  glass  of  lemonade,  and  when  Will  and  Archie 
landed,  as  they  did,  a  few  minutes  later,  the  de- 
mand for  peanuts  increased.  Cricket  measured 


KEEPING    STORE.  55 

them  out  in  a  teacup,  and  poured  them  into  the 
purchaser's  outstretched  hands. 

"  Put  in  some  more  for  good  measure,"  some- 
body would  say.  "  Some  of  mine  spilled." 

"  Pick  them  right  up,  then,"  said  the  little  store- 
keeper, thriftily.  "  'T  won't  hurt  the  nuts  a  bit. 
No,  Zaidee,  you  can't  have  another  thing  till  you 
bring  me  some  more  money.  A  peppermint  drop, 
Eunice?  No,  you  can't  have  two  for  a  cent. 
'Don't  they  look  good  ?  B'lieve  I  '11  just  taste 
one,"  hastily  putting  her  words  into  practice. 
"  Yes,  Billy,  what  do  you  want  ?  a  red  one  or  a 
striped  one  ?  " 

"  Say,  little  un,"  asked  Billy,  uncertainly, 
"  which  would  you  take,  if  you  was  me  ?  I  want 
two  cents'  wuth.  Would  you  get  two  reds,  or 
two  striped  ? " 

"Two  reds,"  advised  Edna,  as  Eunice  said, 
«  Two  striped." 

"  I  can't  buy  so  many,  can  I  ?  "  he  asked,  hold- 
ing out  his  hand,  with  six  cents  in  it.  "  I  want 
some  peanits,  too,  and  some  lemonade.  Will 
this  buy  'em  all  ? " 

"  Get  one  striped  and  one  white,"  said  Eunice, 
"  and  two  cents'  worth  of  peanuts  and  a  glass  of 
lemonade." 


56  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

"  Lemonade  is  three  cents  a  glass,"  said  Cricket, 
"  but,  Billy,  you  can  have  it  for  two,  because 
you  've  helped  me  so  much." 

"  By  the  way,  Will,"  broke  in  Archie,  sud- 
denly, "  how  much  are  crabs  selling  for,  in  the 
market,  to-day  ?  " 

"  Ten  cents,"  answered  Will,  promptly. 

"Now,  then,  Cricket,  you  owe  me  a  lot  on 
those  crabs  that  I  furnished  you  this  morning. 
It  took  me  all  yesterday  afternoon  to  catcfi 
them,  too.  You  have  sold  them  all  off,  I  see, 
already.  How  much  did  they  bring?  Give 
me  all  the  lemonade  I  want,  and  we  '11  call  it 
square." 

"  I  don't  care  whether  you  call  it  square  or 
round,"  answered  Cricket,  briefly,  snipping  Zai- 
dee's  fingers,  which  were  creeping  too  near  the 
peppermints.  "  Zaidee,  keep  your  hands  away. 
You  've  broken  a  whole  piece  out  of  that." 

"  How  could  she  break  a  whole  piece  ?  "  teased 
Archie.  "If  it's  a  piece,  'tis  n't  whole,  Miss 
Scricket." 

"If  catching  crabs  makes  you  so  brilliant, 
you'd  better  catch  some  more,"  said  Cricket, 
serenely.  "  Now,  do  all  of  you  go  away.  I  see 
some  other  people  coming  down  to  the  dock,  and 


KEEPING    STORE.  57 

I  know  they  '11  buy  something,  if  you  go  away, 
so  they  can  see  me,"  she  added,  rearranging  her 
wares.  "  Billy,  drive  them  off."  Thus  ordered, 
Billy  made  a  lunge  at  the  twins  first,  and  they, 
secretly  half -terrified  out  of  their  wits  if  he 
spoke  to  them  in  his  gruff  tones,  scampered  off 
to  Eliza.  Eunice  and  Edna  strolled  off,  eating 
peanuts,  and  the  boys  betook  themselves  to  new 
sports. 

All  day  the  little  maid  and  her  faithful  ally 
sat  on  the  little  wharf,  vending  her  wares.  The 
dock  had  half  a  dozen  sailboats  moored  there, 
and  their  various  owners,  in  passing  to  and  fro, 
stopped,  laughed,  and  bought.  Soon  Billy  had 
to  take  some  of  the  accumulated  money  and  go 
up  to  Simon's  to  replenish  the  stock,  and  fre- 
quent expeditions  there  through  the  day  were 
made.  The  two  refreshed  themselves  in  the 
intervals  of  business  with  sundry  glasses  of 
lemonade,  and  occasional  "  peanits,"  while 
every  now  and  then  a  piece  of  a  red  or  of  a 
striped  peppermint  found  its  way  down  Cricket's 
throat.  Billy  scrupulously  paid  for  all  he  ate. 
By  supper -time  nearly  everything  had  dis- 
appeared. 

"  Now,  I  think,  Billy,  we  might  just  as  well 


58  CKICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

drink  up  this  little  bit  of  lemonade,  and  eat  up 
these  peanuts,"  said  the  tired  little  merchant. 
"  All  the  peppermints  are  gone,  and  it 's  most 
supper-time." 

Billy  was  nothing  loth,  and  together  they  soon 
cleared  the  board. 

"  Well,  my  little  peanut  woman,  how  went  the 
day  with  you  ? "  asked  Auntie  Jean,  at  supper. 
She  had,  of  course,  patronized  the  peanut  stand 
herself  during  the  day,  with  grandma.  "  All 
your  wares  sold?" 

"  Yes,  auntie,  everything,"  answered  Cricket, 
as  the  always  hungry  tribe  gathered  around  the 
supper  -  table.  "  Billy  and  I  ate  up  what  little 
there  was  left  so  it  should  n't  be  wasted." 

"Then  you  don't  mean  to  go  on  with  your 
speculations  in  peanuts  ? "  asked  grandma. 

"No-o,  I  think  not,  grandma,  thank  you," 
answered  Cricket.  "  It  was  very  nice  to-day,  but 
I  think  I  could  n't  stand  keeping  still  all  day  for 
every  day.  But  we  made  a  lot  of  money,"  she 
added,  with  much  satisfaction. 

"  Well,  dear,  that  is  always  gratifying,"  replied 
auntie.  "  How  much  did  you  make  ?  if  we  may 
be  admitted  to  the  financial  secrets  of  the 
firm.  " 


KEEPING    STORE.  59 

"  We  made  twenty-one  cents,"  cried  Cricket, 
proudly,  "  and  I  think  that's  pretty  good." 

"  Indeed,  it  is.  You  're  quite  a  financier. 
And  you  invested  fifty  cents  ?  Then  you  have 
seventy-one  cents  now." 

"  No,  we  have  n't,"  returned  Cricket,  looking 
puzzled.  "  I  have  twenty-one  cents,  now.  Oh, 
I  spent  a  lot  more  than  fifty  cents.  Billy  went 
up  to  the  store  five  or  six  times  and  got  more 
peanuts  and  things,  as  fast  as  the  money  came 
in.  Now,  I  have  twenty-one  cents  to  put  in  my 
box.  Is  n't  that  making  twenty  -  one  cents  ? " 
she  asked,  looking  up,  anxiously. 

There  was  a  burst  of  laughter  from  the  older 
ones. 

"  My  dear  little  girl,"  said  Auntie  Jean,  "  I  'm 
afraid  your  affairs  are  not  on  a  sound  financial 
basis.  You  must  have  been  too  generous. 
People  don't  call  it  making  money  unless  they 
get  back  all  they  spend,  and  more  besides.  As 
it  is,  you  had  fifty  cents  this  morning  and, 
to-night,  you  have  twenty-one.  That  looks  like 
losing." 

Cricket  stared. 

"  I  don't  believe  I  'm  a  good  speculationer," 
she  sighed,  at  last,  looking  crestfallen.  "  Well, 


60  CRICKET   AT   THE    SEASHORE. 

I  don't  care  much.  I  did  n't  want  to  keep  store 
any  more  anyway.  It 's  too  poky.  Can  we  be 
excused,  grandma  ?  I  must  have  a  ride  on 
Mopsie,  or  I  '11  burst !  " 


CHAPTER  V. 

A   BATH    IN    CURDS    AND   WHEY. 

ALL  the  younger  fry  were  playing  in  the  barn. 
It  was  much  smaller  than  the  great  barns  at 
Kayuna,  for  there  was  no  farm  attached  to  Mrs. 
Maxwell's  place,  but  the  new-mown  hay  was 
just  as  sweet  and  soft  to  jump  on  as  the  hay- 
mows were  at  dear  old  Kayuna.  There  was  a  lit- 
tle added  excitement  in  the  fact  that  Luke  was 
not  nearly  so  good-natured  as  'Gustus  John  was, 
and  was  very  apt  to  chase  them  off  his  premises 
when  he  found  them  there.  He  said  the  horses 
would  not  eat  the  hay  after  the  children  had 
jumped  on  it.  However,  as  grandma  always 
said  that  they  could  play  in  the  barn  as  long 
as  they  did  n't  do  any  damage  to  anything, 
Luke's  disapproval  did  not  trouble  them  much. 
To  be  sure,  they  would  scamper  off  if  they  heard 
him  coming,  and  breathlessly  fly  around  corners, 
and  eagerly  report  if  the  "  coast  was  clear,"  but, 
after  all,  all  this  was  more  for  fun  than  anything 
else.  This  morning  they  had  a  clear  three  hours 


62  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

before  them,  for  Luke  had  gone  to  drive  grandma 
and  auntie  over  to  Plymouth,  and  they  would 
not  be  back  till  almost  dinner-time.  Of  course 
the  time  must  be  improved  by  a  grand  romp  in 
the  barn. 

Eliza  sat  in  the  doorway  crocheting.  The 
older  girls  climbed  the  ladder  to  a  high  beam, 
and  then  would  shoot  off  on  to  the  soft  hay  far 
below.  Zaidee  ambitiously  tried  to  follow.  But 
half-way  up  the  ladder  her  courage  invariably 
failed  her,  and  she  would  sit  still  and  shriek  till 
one  of  her  sisters  came  and  carried  her  down. 

"  Zaidee,  don't  climb  up  this  ladder  again," 
said  Eunice,  sharply,  after  she  had  rescued  her 
small  sister  for  the  tenth  time.  "  If  you  do,  I  '11 
leave  you  there.  It's  too  high  for  you,  and 
you  're  always  afraid." 

"  I  is  n't  a  bit  afraid,"  returned  Zaidee,  stoutly. 
"  It 's  only  when  I  get  up  there,  the  ladder  gets 
so  dizzy." 

"  You  get  dizzy,  you  mean.  At  any  rate,  don't 
climb  up  there  again." 

"  You  must  n't  speak  cross  to  me,"  said  Zaidee, 
who  was  a  born  rebel,  and  resented  any  orders 
of  her  older  sisters.  "  If  you  speak  cross  to  me 
I  '11  run  away." 


A   BATH   IN   CURDS    AND    WHEY.  63 

"  Oh,  don't,  Zaidee  ! "  begged  Helen,  in  alarm. 

"  Yes,  1  will.  I  '11  run  away,  and  then  she  '11 
be  sorry.  Let's  jump  on  this  little  hay, 
Helen." 

But  after  a  time  the  high  ladder  looked  so 
very  tempting,  and  it  was  such  wild  excitement 
to  see  the  girls  flying  off  that  great,  high  beam, 
with  shrieks  of  fun  and  laughter,  that  Zaidee 
tried  the  experiment  again,  of  climbing  up  her- 
self. She  went  up  eight  rounds  bravely,  and 
then  it  suddenly  looked  so  very  far  to  the 
bottom  that  she  screamed  for  help,  as  usual. 

"  You  're  a  naughty  little  girl,  to  climb  up 
there  again,  after  I  had  told  you  not  to,"  said 
Eunice,  severely.  "  Now  you  must  stay  there 
and  scream  till  you  promise  me  not  to  try  it 
again."  She  knew  there  was  really  no  danger, 
and  Zaidee  was  always  trying  to  do  what  she 
could  not. 

"  Take  me  down,  'Liza !  take  me  down,  Eunice ! " 
she  shrieked,  till  Edna  said : 

"  Oh,  do  take  her  down,  Eunice,  and  have  her 
stop." 

So  Eunice  helped  her  off  her  high  perch  once 
more,  with  the  warning  that  if  she  did  it  again 
she  would  certainly  leave  her  there  and  go  away 


64  CKICKET    AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

where  she  couldn't  hear  her  call.  Then  the 
older  girls  resumed  their  fun.  Zaidee  and 
Helen  ran  out  into  the  yard. 

Presently,  Helen  came  flying  back  in  a  great 
panic. 

"  Do  come  here,  'Liza !  do  come  quick,  Eunice  ! 
Zaidee's  eating  worms  !  She  's  eaten  two  woolly 
ones,  and  one  plain  one.  I'm  afraid  they'll 
make  her  sick.  Do  come,  'Liza,  and  make  her 
stop." 

"  Is  n't  she  the  funniest  child ! "  exclaimed 
Eunice,  as  Eliza  hurried  off  to  rescue  the 
worms. 

"  If  somebody  won't  give  her  what  she  wants, 
or  if  anything  makes  her  cross,  she  always  does 
something  disagreeable  to  herself.  Sometimes 
she  says  she  won't  eat  any  luncheon  or  dinner, 
or  won't  go  to  walk.  Think  of  eating  those 
worms,  just  because  I  scolded  her  about  climbing 
up  on  the  ladder.  Ugh !  " 

"  I  should  think  she  was  funny.  Girls,  let 's 
go  up  to  Simon's,  and  buy  some  peppermints," 
suggested  Edna.  "  It 's  such  a  hot  day,  and  pep- 
permints make  your  throat  so  cool  when  you 
breathe,  don't  you  know  ?  I  've  five  cents  in 
my  pocket." 


A   BATH   IN    CURDS   AND    WHEY.          65 

Zaidee,  having  reluctantly  consented  to  forego 
her  diet  of  worms,  watched  the  three  girls  go 
out  into  the  road,  and  ran  after  them. 

"  Let  me  go,  too,"  she  called,  toiling  after. 

"  No,  you  can't  go,  my  dear.  It 's  too  far.  You 
stay  with  'Liza,"  said  Eunice,  but  speaking  very 
pleasantly,  to  avoid  another  scene. 

"  It  is  n't  a  bit  too  far,  Eunice.  We  go  there 
lots  of  times  with  'Liza.  If  you're  going  for 
peppermints,  I  want  some,  too." 

"  Run  and  ask  Billy  to  give  you  some  of  his, 
then.  Zaidee,  you  can't  go.  Now,  run  back." 

"  Then  I  '11  run  away,"  said  Zaidee,  repeating 
her  former  threat.  She  had  lately  heard  some 
one  speaking  of  running  away,  and  it  seemed  a 
very  nice  punishment  to  inflict  on  Eunice. 

"  Very  well,"  said  Eunice,  turning  away. 
"  Only  don't  eat  any  more  worms;"  for  the  way 
to  manage  Zaidee  was  not  to  take  much  notice 
of  her.  She  was  a  headstrong  little  thing,  and 
grew  very  obstinate  if  she  was  opposed. 

"  Run  back  to  'Liza,  children,"  repeated 
Eunice,  looking  back.  "  Come  on,  girls." 

"  It 's  awfully  hot  walking  up  this  road,"  ob- 
served Edna,  as  they  went  up  the  slight  incline 
to  the  village.  The  treeless  road  was  made  of 


66  CRICKET    AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

white  sea -shells,  powdered  fine,  and  reflected 
the  glare  of  the  sun  powerfully. 

"  Don't  your  feet  burn,  walking  along  here  ?  " 
Mine  do,  awfully,"  said  Cricket.  "  I  wish  I  had 
wooden  legs  like  Maggie  Sampson's  father's. 
His  feet  can't  burn." 

"  He  can 't  feel  the  heat  through  the  soles  of 
his  feet,  'cause  he  ain't  built  that  way,"  chanted 
Eunice,  instantly,  for  she  shared  the  family 
failing  for  rhyme. 

"  We  might  have  stilts,  I  suppose,"  said 
Cricket.  "  I  love  stilts.  Here  we  are.  Let 's 
rest  and  get  cool  before  we  go  back." 

It  was  half  an  hour  before  the  girls  strolled 
leisurely  into  the  yard  again,  munching  their 
peppermints. 

"Where  are  the  children?"  asked  Eliza, 
hastily,  seeing  the  girls  come  back  alone. 

"  Not  with  us.  We  sent  them  back  to  you," 
said  Eunice,  quickly.  "  What  have  those  tire- 
some children  done  now?  They  ought  to  be 
put  in  barrels  and  kept  there.  It's  the  only 
way  to  be  sure  of  them.  When  did  you  miss 
them?" 

"  Ever  since  you  Ve  been  gone.  Zaidee  ran 
past,  saying  she  was  going  with  you,  so  I  let 
her." 


A   BATH    IN    CURDS   AND    WHEY.          67 

"They  must  be  somewhere  around  the 
house  or  barn,"  answered  Eunice,  beginning 
to  call  "Helen!  Helen!"  She  knew  that 
Helen  would  answer  if  she  were  within  earshot, 
but  Zaidee  was  quite  equal  to  letting  them  call, 
if  she  were  in  a  fit  of  temper.  But  they  searched 
in  vain.  Kenneth  insisted  they  went  "  that 
way,"  pointing  down  the  beach,  but  Billy  thought 
he  had  seen  them  going  up  the  beach.  They 
searched  the  house  and  barn,  and  then,  as  it  was 
near  dinner-time,  Will  and  Archie  appeared  and 
joined  the  detective  force. 

"  This  is  getting  serious,"  said  Will,  pres- 
ently. "  I  think  the  little  skivers  have  really 
run  off." 

"  Could  they  have  fallen  off  the  dock?"  asked 
Cricket,  anxiously.  But,  fortunately,  it  was  low 
tide,  and  there  was  no  water  to  fall  into.  They 
inquired  of  all  passers-by,  and  of  the  immediate 
neighbours,  with  no  better  result.  The  children 
had  not  been  seen.  Faces  began  to  grow  grave, 
and  feet  began  to  fly  faster  in  every  direction. 
Archie  saddled  the  ponies,  and  Cricket  started 
off  in  one  direction,  Eunice  in  another,  while  he 
and  Will  went  back  into  the  woodland  roads. 

Meanwhile,  the  twins,  after  being  sent  back 


68  CRICKET    AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

by  Eunice,  had  marched  disconsolately  down  on 
the  beach,  without  Eliza's  seeing  them. 

"I'm  going  to  run  away  now,"  said  Zaidee, 
firmly.  She  must  have  gotten  out  of  the  wrong 
side  of  the  bed  that  morning,  for  everything 
seemed  to  go  wrong.  She  was  usually  a  sunny 
little  soul. 

"  Where  shall  we  run  to  ? "  asked  Helen, 
hanging  back. 

"  Let 's  go  this  way,"  said  Zaidee,  selecting 
"this  way,"  for  no  particular  reason.  It  led 
them  back  of  the  house,  on  to  one  of  the  wood- 
land roads,  out  of  sight  of  anybody. 

They  trudged  on  for  half  a  mile  or  more,  and 
then  suddenly  came  upon  a  small  cheese  factory, 
which  stood  upon  one  side  of  a  little  brook. 
There  was  a  dam  here,  and  a  small  pond,  and  on 
the  other  side  of  the  brook  a  little  saw-mill 
stood. 

Zaidee,  of  course,  immediately  wanted  to  go 
into  this  queer  looking  house,  as  she  called  it. 
Finding  the  door  open,  and  no  one  there,  she 
entered,  boldly.  As  it  was  just  noon,  the  few 
men  employed  were  at  dinner,  and  the  place 
was  deserted. 

"  What  a  queer  house ! "   exclaimed  Zaidee. 


A   BATH    IN    CURDS    AND    WHEY.          69 

It  was  a  long  bare  place,  with  a  platform  on  one 
side,  and  on  that  were  three  or  four  vats  or 
tanks,  only,  of  course,  the  children  did  not  know 
what  they  were.  These  vats  were  for  the  milk. 
There  was  also  the  most  remarkable  number  of 
new  brooms  decorating  the  walls. 

The  children  ran  here  and  there  with  the 
greatest  interest  and  curiosity ;  and  very  soon 
discovered  that  there  were  spigots  in  the  tanks. 
Of  course  Zaidee  instantly  proceeded  to  turn 
one,  and  out  came  a  spurting  deluge  of  whey,  all 
over  their  feet.  They  jumped  back,  hastily. 

"  Oh,  what  pretty  white  water !  "  cried  Zaidee, 
eagerly,  stooping  down  and  spatting  her  hands 
in  the  trough,  and  then  throwing  it  up  in  the  air. 
It  came  down  all  over  herself  and  Helen. 

"  I  don't  like  it.  It  smells  so  loud"  said 
dainty  Helen,  drawing  back. 

Zaidee  sniffed,  critically. 

"  Yes,  it  does,  Helen.  But  is  n't  it  pretty  ? 
Let 's  look  over  the  wall  and  see  what  it  looks 
like." 

They  were  not,  however,  quite  tall  enough  to 
do  this,  but  Zaidee's  quick  eyes,  roving  around, 
spied  a  wooden  stool  which  she  immediately 
dragged  up  on  the  little  platform,  to  stand  on. 


70  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

She  climbed  up  and  looked  in.  It  was  not  the 
vat  in  which  she  had  turned  the  spigot,  and  it 
was  half  full  of  whey  with  great  pieces  of  the 
curd  floating  around  on  it. 

"Here's  more  nice  white  water,  with  pretty 
white  stones  floating  on  it,"  Zaidee  cried,  eagerly. 
She  stretched  down  her  hand  to  grasp  some. 
She  could  just  reach  it,  but  to  her  surprise  the 
"  white  stone  "  separated  as  she  grasped  it. 

"  I  can't  pick  it  up,"  she  cried,  puzzled,  as  she 
tried  again  and  again. 

"  Let  me  see,"  begged  Helen.  But  the  stool 
was  not  big  enough  for  both  to  stand  on,  and 
Zaidee  was  too  interested  to  get  down.  A  bigger 
piece  of  curd  came  floating  towards  her,  and 
she  leaned  quickly  forward  to  reach  it.  She  lost 
her  balance,  and  went  headlong  into  the  milky 
pool. 

In  a  moment,  sputtering  and  screaming,  she 
found  her  feet,  for  the  liquid  was  only  up  to  her 
waist,  but  the  top  of  the  tank  being  even  with 
her  head,  of  course  she  could  not  get  out. 
Helen  stood  open-mouthed  with  astonishment  at 
Zaidee' s  sudden  disappearance  ;  then  she  quickly 
climbed  upon  the  stool  to  see  for  herself.  Zaidee 
stood  immersed  to  her  waist,  with  her  short, 


A   BATH   IN    CURDS   AND    WHEY.          71 

silky  black  hair  plastered  to  her  head  with  the 
whey,  and  small  lumps  of  curd  sticking  all  over 
her  head  and  shoulders,  so  that  she  looked  as  if 
she  had  been  out  in  a  sharp  -  cornered  snow 
storm.  She  tried  to  rub  her  streaming  eyes 
dry  with  her  wet  fists. 

"  I  don't  like  this  white  water,"  she  said,  wip- 
ing her  wet  face  on  her  wetter  sleeve.  "  It 's 
nasty  stuff.  It's  worse  than  the  ocean.  It's 
sour  water,  Helen.  Just  taste  it." 

"  I  can't,"  said  Helen.  "  How  can  you  get 
out  ?  Can  you  step  on  those  white  stones  ?  " 

"They  won't  hold  me  up.  They're  such 
funny  stones.  They  all  go  to  pieces  when  you 
squeeze  them,"  said  Zaidee,  grasping  some  with 
both  hands,  to  illustrate.  "  Could  you  put  the 
stool  over  for  me  to  stand  on  ?  " 

"  I  can't,  'cause  I  'm  standing  on  it.  P'raps  I 
can  pull  you  out,  Zaidee.  See  if  I  can." 

Zaidee  waded  over  to  the  side  of  the  tank, 
and  tried  to  climb  up  the  smooth,  tin-lined  sur-  " 
face,  while  Helen  tugged  from  above. 

When  this  did  not  work,  the  children  stared 
at  each  other  wistfully. 

"  Do  you  s'pose  you  '11  have  to  stay  there 
always  ? "  said  Helen,  at  last,  in  a  half  whis- 
per?" 


72  CKICKET   AT    THE    SEASHOKE. 

"  No.  I  '11  holler,"  said  Zaidee,  with  confi- 
dence, "  and  somebody  will  come.  If  only  I 
could  get  boosted  a  little  bit !  Helen ! "  with 
a  sudden  inspiration,  "  you  jump  over  here  and 
I  '11  stand  on  your  knee  as  I  do  on  Liza's  when 
she  boosts  me  up  into  the  apple-tree.  Then  I 
could  climb  right  over." 

Helen  hesitated.  This  plan  did  not  strike  her 
favourably. 

"  Oh,  Zaidee !  I  don't  want  to  get  down  there 
into  that  white  water.  It  smells  so  loud,  and  I  'd 
get  my  feet  all  wet,  and  my  dress  wet,  too." 
Helen  was  one  of  the  children  whom  dirt  dis- 
tresses, and  no  soil  ever  seemed  to  cling  to  her 
clothes  or  hands.  Zaidee  was  not  in  the  least 
particular,  or,  perhaps,  she  would  not  have 
lunched  on  woolly  worms. 

"  But  I  've  got  to  get  out,  Helen,"  she  per- 
sisted. "  I  'm  all  sticky  inside.  I  don't  like  it. 
Please  jump  in  and  boost  me  out ; "  for  the 
problem  of  getting  Helen  out  never  occurred  to 
either  of  these  young  philosophers. 

Helen  looked  very  unwilling,  but  she  was  too 
used  to  doing  as  Zaidee  ordered  to  object  further ; 
she  slowly  put  one  leg  over  the  edge  of  the  tank 
till  her  foot  touched  the  whey.  Then  she  shiv- 


A   BATH   IN    CURDS    AND    WHEY.          73 

ered,  and  hesitated.  Zaidee  took  hold  of  her  leg 
for  fear  she  would  draw  it  back,  but,  pulling  it 
a  little  harder  than  she  intended,  Helen  immedi- 
ately fell  over  on  to  Zaidee,  who,  unable  to  keep 
her  footing  on  the  smooth  tin  bottom,  took  a 
second  plunge,  dragging  Helen  with  her. 

Then  two  curded  and  wheyey  heads  arose. 

"  Oh,  Helen,  you  look  so  funny  ! "  said  Zaidee, 
as  Helen  spluttered  in  her  turn.  "  Does  n't  it 
feel  awful  nasty  ?  And  see  how  funny  these  little 
stones  look  now !  " 

The  curd  being  pretty  thoroughly  churned 
up  now,  with  the  gyrations  of  the  two  children, 
it  was  settling  in  a  smooth,  even  layer  over  the 
top  of  the  whey.  Zaidee  slapped  and  splashed 
it  about  in  high  glee,  perfectly  satisfied  to  stay 
in  the  tank  any  length  of  time,  now  that  she  had 
Helen  beside  her  there. 

Just  then  steps  sounded  on  the  planks  outside, 
and  the  voices  of  men  were  heard. 

"  Great  guns !  Who  left  this  'ere  spigot  a-run- 
nin' ! "  exclaimed  one,  coming  hastily  forward. 
"  Look  at  the  whey  goin'  galumphin  out.  Suthin' 
must  hev  gorn  bust." 

A  breathless  silence  settled  on  Zaidee  and 
Helen. 


74  CRICKET    AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

"  There  warn't  nothin'  a-runnin'  when  I  went 
off  to  dinner,"  said  another,  "  and  I  was  the  last 
feller  out." 

The  next  moment  the  astonished  men  were 
gazing  at  the  pair  of  guilty  -  looking  little  mer- 
maids, who  wore  curds  for  seaweeds.  Helen's 
floating  golden  hair,  all  stringy  with  whey,  was 
a  funnier  sight  even  than  Zaidee's  short  plastered 
locks.  The  two  frightened,  dirty,  streaming  little 
faces,  were  raised  appealingly. 

"  Wai,  I  vum !  We  've  caught  suthin'  in 
this  cheese,  for  sure,"  said  one  man,  coming 
nearer. 

"We  failed  in,"  said  Zaidee,  regaining  her 
courage,  which  never  long  deserted  her.  "  We 
don't  like  this  white  water,  and  it 's  all  smelly. 
Please  take  us  out." 

"  I  swan,"  said  the  other  man.  "  Where  did 
you  come  from,  young  uns  ? " 

"  We  live  at  the  beach,  at  grandma's.  Take 
us  out,  please.  Take  Helen  first." 

"What  are  you  doin'  around  here,  then, 
a-tumblin'  into  our  vats,  and  a-spilin'  good  curds 
and  whey  ?  You  don't  suppose  we  want  to 
flavour  it  with  little  gals,  do  you?" 

Zaidee  was  n't  sure  of  anything  but  that  she 


A   BATH    IN    CURDS   AND    WHEY.          75 

wanted  to  get  out  of  her  new  bath-tub,  so  she 
only  repeated  : 

"  Please  take  us  out,  Mr.  Man,  and  we  won't 
fall  in  again,  ever,  'cause  we  don't  like  this  white 
water,  truly  we  don't.  There  are  such  funny 
little  snow  stones  in  it.  We  like  really  truly 
water  best.  Please  take  us  out." 

"  Was  it  you  turned  my  spigot  ?  "  demanded 
her  jailer,  very  sternly. 

Zaidee  quaked.  She  had  forgotten  about  turn- 
ing the  spigot. 

"  We  won't  ever  turn  it  again,"  she  promised, 
hastily. 

"  Oh,  come,  Steve,  take  the  kid  out,"  said  the 
other  man. 

"  Ef  it  was  one  of  our  children  they  'd  get  a 
trouncin',  but  they  belong  to  some  of  them  city 
folks  down  by  the  beach.  Them  city  children 
dunno  nothin'  —  can't  expect  'em  to.  Come, 
young  uns,"  and,  in  a  moment,  Zaidee  and  Helen 
stood  on  the  planks. 

"  Sech  capers ! "  grumbled  the  other  man, 
setting  down  the  dripping  little  figures  he  had 
lifted  out.  "  Hull  batch  spiled.  Now,  scoot." 
And  the  children  hastily  scooted,  leaving  a 
milky  track  behind. 


76  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

They  had  no  idea  of  the  way  home,  but,  as 
Zaidee  was  not  ready  to  return  yet,  that  did  not 
trouble  her.  Once  outside  of  the  cheese  factory 
they  got  leaves  and  wiped  off  each  other's  drip- 
ping faces  and  hair,  as  best  they  could. 

"  My  shoes  are  all  soppy,"  said  Helen,  tiptoe- 
ing along,  uncomfortably. 

"  Let 's  take  'em  off,"  said  Zaidee,  instantly, 
sitting  down  and  tugging  at  the  wet  button- 
holes, which  would  not  yield  to  her  small  fin- 
gers. Helen's  were  loose,  and  unbuttoned  easily. 
When  she  got  her  shoes  off,  however,  she  found 
she  could  not  walk,  for  the  sticks  and  prickles 
on  the  ground  hurt  her  tender  feet. 

"  I  '11  have  to  put  my  shoes  on  again,"  she 
said.  "  The  palms  of  my  feet  hurt  so.  Don't 
take  yours  off,  Zaidee." 

So  Zaidee  got  up  out  of  the  little  pool  of 
whey  that  had  dripped  from  her  dress  while  she 
had  been  sitting,  and  after  Helen  had,  with  some 
difficulty,  crowded  her  feet  into  her  wet  shoes 
again,  the  children  started  off  in  search  of  a 
new  adventures.  The  hot  sun  on  their  clothes 
was  fast  making  them  very  unpleasant  objects 
to  a  sensitive  nose,  but  they  were  getting  used  to 
the  odour  of  sour  milk. 


A   BATH    IN    CURDS    AND    WHEY.          77 

There  was  a  little  foot-bridge  above  the  dam, 
for  on  the  other  side  of  the  stream  stood  a  little 
sawmill.  The  children  ran  across  the  bridge, 
gaily.  Back  of  the  sawmill  were  high  heaps  of 
delightful  yellow  sawdust. 

"  See  those  beautiful  yellow  hills ! "  cried 
Zaidee,  rapturously,  running  forward  and  throw- 
ing herself  full  length  into  one,  bringing  a  cloud 
of  yellow  powder  about  her.  "  It 's  awfully 
nice,  Helen ;  come  on." 

Helen,  nothing  loth,  came  on,  and  in  a  mo- 
ment the  children  were  wallowing  in  the  soft, 
light  dust.  In  the  somewhat  damp  state  of  their 
clothes,  the  immediate  result  can  be  imagined. 

"  You  look  just  like  a  woolly  worm,  Helen," 
said  Zaidee,  gleefully.  "  You  're  all  fuzzy  with 
sawdust.  Lie  down  and  I  '11  bury  you  all  up." 

Helen  obediently  sat  down,  and  Zaidee  heaped 
a  yellow  mound  over  her. 

"You're  like  a  yellow  Santa  Claus,"  cried 
Zaidee,  as  Helen  emerged,  presently,  somewhat 
smothered.  "  Now,  bury  me !  " 

"  I  love  to  feel  it  all  running  down  my  back 
like  ants,"  Zaidee  said,  wriggling,  but  enjoying 
the  sensation,  as  Helen  let  the  dry  dust  drop 
through  her  fingers  on  her  head. 


78  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

A  little  later,  Will,  running  through  the 
woods,  came  past  the  sawmill,  and  stopped  to 
listen,  at  the  sound  of  children's  voices.  Follow- 
ing this,  he  immediately  discovered  two  strange 
looking  objects,  rolling,  with  shrieks  of  laughter, 
down  the  sawdust  heaps. 

"  You  're  a  pretty  pair  of  kids,"  he  said,  ap- 
proaching them.  "  Scaring  people  into  fits,  for 
two  hours !  By  Jove  !  where  have  you  been  ?  " 
he  broke  off,  holding  his  nose,  as  he  drew 
nearer. 

"  Let 's  go  home,  now ;  I  'm  hungry,"  was  all 
the  answer  Zaidee  deigned. 

And  so  it  happened  that  just  as  auntie  and 
grandma  drove  up  in  front  of  the  gate  the  first 
thing  they  saw  was  two  remarkable  little  figures 
coming  slowly  around  the  house,  golden  hair 
and  black  all  of  a  colour,  faces  begrimed  with 
dust  and  streaked  with  sour  milk,  draggled 
dresses,  with  plasters  of  sawdust  here  and  there, 
and  odorous, —  but  the  less  said  about  that,  the 
better. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

BEAR    ISLAND. 

EUNICE  and  Edna  were  devoted  little  friends. 
Edna  came  just  between  the  two  sisters.  But, 
as  she  had  always  been  somewhat  delicate, 
Cricket's  tireless  energy  often  wearied  her, 
and  Eunice's  naturally  quieter  temperament 
suited  her  much  better.  Edna  was  more  de- 
liberate in  everything  than  her  little  cousins 
were,  more  literal,  less  full  of  fun  and  frolic, 
and  sometimes  fretful  under  the  mere  burden  of 
not  feeling  quite  well  and  strong,  as  they  always 
did.  But  she  was  neither  selfish  nor  exacting, 
as  delicate  children  often  are  ;  she  was  always 
gentle  and  polite,  never  reckless  and  forgetful  of 
consequences,  as  Cricket  so  often  was,  and  so 
she  made  an  excellent  balance  for  her  little 
cousins. 

Cricket  sometimes  found  herself  rather  in  the 
cold,  when  Eunice  and  Edna  were  together, 
however,  for  Edna  loved  to  get  Eunice  down  in 
some  cool,  shady  corner,  or  under  the  rocks  on 
the  beach,  to  chatter  or  do  fancy  work  together. 


80  CKICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

Cricket  thought  this  was  dreadfully  stupid,  and 
whenever  the  other  girls  settled  themselves  for 
what  Edna  called  a  "  cozy  hour,"  she  would  slip 
off  by  herself,  to  find  the  boys,  or  go  off  with 
old  Billy,  with  whom  she  had  struck  up  such  a 
comical  friendship,  for  he  followed  her  round 
like  a  big  dog,  and  permitted  all  sorts  of  liber- 
ties with  his  possessions  from  her,  that  he  was 
very  chary  of  allowing  the  others.  Or  else  she 
would  go  alone  for  a  scamper  on  Mopsie,  or 
even  perch  herself  up  on  a  branch  of  some  tree 
in  the  orchard,  and  pore  over  the  pages  of  her 
beloved  "  Little  Women,"  or  some  other  of  her 
favourites.  Reading  was  the  sole  sitting-down 
occupation  that  Cricket  did  not  think  was  intol- 
erably stupid,  and  a  sheer  waste  of  time.  For- 
tunately, she  always  had  boundless  resources  of 
amusement  within  herself,  and  she  would  not 
have  been  lonely  on  a  desert  island. 

"  Come  for  a  row,  girls,"  said  Eunice,  the  next 
morning.  "  The  water  is  like  glass." 

"  Suppose  we  row  over  to  Bear  Island,"  said 
Edna.  I  '11  take  my  embroidery,  and  you  can 
take  a  book  and  read  to  me,  Eunice.  If  we  take 
the  boat  off  the  boys  can't  get  to  us  and  tease  us." 

"All  right,"  assented  Eunice.     "We'll  take 


BEAR    ISLAND.  81 

the  '  Light-house  Girl.'  I  'm  dying  to  finish  it. 
Cricket,  you  bring  your  knitting,  won't  you,  and 
we  '11  take  some  cookies  and  things  to  eat,  and 
stay  all  the  morning." 

" '  Not  mush,'  as  baby  says,"  responded  Cricket, 
with  decision.  "  Think  I  'm  going  to  waste  this 
glorious  day,  knitting  washrags  ?  "  with  ineffable 
scorn.  "  You  two  old  grandmothers  can  knit 
and  read  all  you  want  to.  I  've  too  much  else  to 
do." 

"  Cricket  is  afraid  she  '11  get  her  washrag  done, 
if  she  works  on  it,"  laughed  Eunice. 

"  Well,  what  if  I  am  ? "  returned  Cricket,  de- 
fensively. "  As  long  as  I  have  that  on  hand, 
nobody  can  ask  me  to  do  anything  else.  If  I  'm 
careful  how  I  work  on  it,  I  can  make  it  last  till 
I  'm  grown  up." 

They  all  laughed  at  Cricket's  scheme.  Her 
knitting  was  a  standing  joke.  Mamma  had  in- 
sisted on  her  learning  how  to  knit,  when  she  was 
quite  small,  telling  her  that  it  would  be  a  very 
useful  accomplishment  when  she  was  grown  up, 
and  that  it  was  very  much  easier  to  learn  to  knit 
quickly,  if  one  learns  very  young.  So  Cricket 
had  toiled  her  way  through  a  pair  of  reins  for 
Kenneth,  and  had  also  accomplished  a  red  and 


82  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

white  striped  washrag  for  Helen.  Her  present 
undertaking  was  a  blue  and  white  one  for  Zaidee. 
It  was  now  a  year  old. 

"  If  Zaidee  was  in  need  of  that  washrag,  she  'd 
be  a  blackamoor  before  she  gets  it,"  said  Eu- 
nice. 

"  She  is  n't  starving  for  it,"  returned  Cricket, 
comfortably.  "And  I've  dropped  so  many 
stitches,  anyway,  and  could  n't  find  them,  that  it 
isn't  much  but  holes.  The  knitting  only  just 
holds  the  holes  together.  'Liza  will  have  to  darn 
it  a  lot,  before  she  can  use  it  for  Zaidee." 

"  You  're  old  enough  to  like  to  sew  and  em- 
broider things,"  said  Edna,  reprovingly. 

"  No,  I  'm  not,"  said  Cricket,  quickly.  "  When 
I  have  to  wear  plaguy  long  dresses,  and  when  I 
can't  play  football,  nor  climb  trees,  nor  perform 
on  the  trapeze,  nor  do  anything  nice,  then  I  '11 
get  some  glasses  and  store  teeth,  and  sit  down 
and  consolate  myself  by  knitting  and  sewing  all 
day.  Ugh !  I  wish  I  were  a  boy !  I  mean, 
sometimes  I  wish  I  were,"  with  a  quick  glance 
around,  to  see  if  those  omnipresent  cousins  of 
hers  were  within  earshot,  for,  before  them,  noth- 
ing would  have  induced  her  to  admit  anything 
of  the  kind. 


BEAR   ISLAND.  83 

"  You  and  I  will  go,  then,  Edna,"  said  Eunice. 
"  I  '11  run  down  and  get  the  boat  ready,  while 
you  bring  the  cushions,  and  get  something  to 
eat  for  a  lunch.  Better  come,  Cricket." 

"  I  '11  tell  you  what  I  '11  do.  I  '11  row  you 
over,  and  then  I  '11  row  round  a  little,  for  fun, 
myself,  while  you  two  are  having  a  nice  stupid 
time,  all  by  yourselves.  You  can  call  me  when 
you  want  me  to  come  back. 

«  Oh,  I  '11  tell  you  what  let 's  do.  Let 's  play 
we're  shipwrecked.  You  get  some  luncheon, 
Edna,  lots  of  it,  and  we  '11  have  a  very  exciting 
time." 

"  You  always  want  to  play  something,"  said 
Edna,  who  could  n't  quite  understand  how 
Cricket  could  always  change  the  aspect  of 
everything  —  even  of  things  she  had  to  do,  that 
she  did  n't  like  —  by  the  magic  formula,  "  Let 's 
play." 

"  It 's  so  much  more  fun  to  play  things,  than 
just  plain  do  them,"  Cricket  contented  herself 
with  saying  now. 

"  I  '11  run  the  boat  down,  Eunice,  if  you  '11 
go  with  Edna,  and  get  all  the  things,  cushions 
and  books  and  luncheon,  and  don't  forget  your 
precious  work,  Edna,"  and  Cricket  skipped 


84  CKICKET    AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

off  to  the  dock,  while  the  girls  went  to  the 
house. 

'.'  Shall  we  be  the  '  Swiss  Family  Robinson,'  or 
'  The  Young  Crusoes,'  or  shall  we  be  a  new  set 
altogether  ? "  asked  Cricket,  when  they  were  all 
afloat. 

"  A  new  set,  I  say,"  answered  Eunice.  "  We  've 
played  '  Swiss  Family  '  so  much  I  'm  tired  of  it. 
Let  us  be  two  boys,  and  Edna  our  sister." 

"  No,  our  grandmother,"  said  Cricket,  soberly. 
"  It 's  more  appropriate.  She  likes  to  knit  so 
much." 

"I  won't  be  a  grandmother,"  said  Edna, 
decidedly.  "  If  I  can't  be  a  sister,  I  won't 
play." 

"  I  was  only  in  fun.  I  'd  just  as  soon  that 
you  'd  be  a  sister,"  said  Cricket,  pacifically.  "  I 
was  only  joking.  We  've  escaped  from  a  burn- 
ing vessel,  you  know,  and  every  one  else  is 
either  burned  or  drowned.  We  've  provisions 
for  a  month,  if  we  don't  eat  too  much,  and 
we're  in  the  South  Sea  Islands.  South  Sea 
Islands  sound  nice  and  shipwrecky,  don't  you 
think  so?" 

"  Splendid.  No  sail  is  in  sight,"  went  on  Eunice, 
striking  in,  "  and  a  wild  waste  of  waters  stretch 


BEAR   ISLAND.  85 

on  every  side,"  quoting  freely,  as  she  swept  her 
hand  around  the  expanse  of  the  wide,  calm  bay, 
dotted  with  white  sails  and  rowboats. 

"  A  savage,  rock  -  bound  coast  appears  before 
us,"  she  added,  as  Cricket's  muscular  little  arms 
sent  the  light  boat  along  towards  the  small 
island  ahead  of  them.  It  consisted  of  little 
more  than  a  mass  of  rocks,  with  a  bit  of  shelv- 
ing beach  on  the  west  side,  and,  here  and  there, 
a  scrubby  pine. 

But  it  was  a  picturesque  spot,  and  the  children 
were  very  fond  of  coming  over  there,  since  no 
one  else  ever  seemed  to  think  of  it,  and  they  had 
it  to  themselves. 

"  Methinks  this  coast  looks  bare,  indeed,"  said 
Cricket,  in  her  character  of  shipwrecked  mariner, 
as  she  rested  on  her  oars.  "  Shall  we  land  here, 
brother?" 

"  'T  is  the  only  land  in  sight,"  returned  Eunice, 
shielding  her  eyes,  and  looking  forward.  "  What 
say  you,  sister  ?  " 

Edna  giggled.  "  Suppose  there  are  cannibals 
there  ?  "  she  asked.  "  1  don't  want  to  be  eaten 
up  alive." 

"  We  will  defend  you,  with  our  last  breath," 
promised  Eunice,  valiantly,  as  they  shot  up  on 


86  CRICKET   AT   THE    SEASHORE. 

the  pebbly  bit  of  beach.  "  Shall  we  explore  it, 
brother  ?  " 

"  You  explore,  and  I  '11  row  around  the  island, 
and  see  if  there  are  any  signs  of  cannibals  or 
savages.  Perhaps  I  '11  find  a  settlement  of  white 
people,"  she  said,  as  she  pushed  off  with  her  oar, 
after  the  girls  had  disembarked  with  the  bag- 
gage. 

"Don't  forget  to  come  back,  if  you  do,"  called 
Edna,  over  her  shoulder. 

"  I  '11  row  off,"  said  Cricket,  conveniently  deaf 
to  this  remark,  "  and  rencounter,"  aiming  at  re- 
connoitre, "  and  if  you  are  in  any  trouble,  give 
the  call,  and  wave  a  handkerchief  on  a  stick. 
Perhaps  I  '11  row  back  to  the  burning  vessel,  and 
see  if  I  can  pick  up  any  one  who  is  floating 
around." 

The  call  was  a  vigorous  whoop,  that  had  been 
long  ago  adopted.  It  consisted  in  drawing  a 
deep  breath,  and  then  crying,  "  Wah-whoo-wah  ! 
wah  -  whoo  -  wah  !  Crick  -  et !  Crick  -  et !  wah- 
whoo-wah!  "  putting  in  the  name  of  the  person 
wanted. 

Eunice  and  Edna  watched  Cricket  off,  and 
then  sauntered  slowly  across  the  island,  to  a  dear 
little  spot,  their  favourite  nook.  It  was  a  smooth 


LANDING    ON    BEAR    ISLAND 


BEAR   ISLAND.  89 

bit  of  sand,  under  the  shadow  of  a  pine,  and  well 
sheltered  by  rugged  overhanging  rocks.  They 
had  an  uninterrupted  view  of  the  bay  out- 
ward, with  the  long  tongue  of  land  that  partly 
enclosed  it,  and  the  lighthouse  standing  on  the 
rocky  point.  Marbury  lay  behind  them,  out  of 
sight. 

They  settled  themselves  comfortably,  in  the 
cushions,  with  the  rocks  at  their  backs.  Edna 
took  her  work,  a  linen  cover  for  her  bureau, 
which  she  was  embroidering  exquisitely.  Her 
deft  little  fingers  accomplished  really  beautiful 
work,  and  she  loved  to  do  it. 

She  had  done  outline  work  when  her  tiny 
fingers  were  hardly  firm  enough  to  grasp  the 
needle,  and  her  kindergarten  sewing,  when  she 
was  a  small  child,  had  been  the  delight  of  her 
teachers,  and  the  envy  of  her  little  companions. 
Eunice  was  fond  of  her  needle,  too,  though  she 
was  not  equal  to  such  deft  workmanship  as 
Edna  was. 

"You  do  such  lovely  things,"  she  said, 
now,  taking  up  the  strip  of  linen,  on  which 
graceful  maidenhair  fern  was  growing  rapidly. 
"I  don't  see  where  you  get  time  to  do  so 
much." 


90  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

"  I  do  suppose  it  makes  a  difference  that,  when 
I  'm  at  home,  I  have  n't  any  one  to  play  with,  as 
you  have.  Probably  you  and  Cricket  play  games 
together,  while  I  am  doing  my  fancy  work. 
What  do  you  do  in  the  winter  evenings  at 
home?" 

"  Different  things,"  answered  Eunice,  lifting 
up  the  soft,  pale-green  silks,  admiringly.  "  Some- 
times I  study.  Not  often,  though,  for  papa 
does  n't  like  us  to  study  in  the  evening  much. 
You  see,  our  school  is  out  at  one,  and  lunch  is 
at  half-past.  Then,  till  half-past  four,  we  can 
do  anything  we  like  out-of-doors.  We  skate,  if 
there  is  any  skating  in  the  park,  we  coast  down 
hill  on  Sawyer  Street,  or  walk,  or  papa  takes  us 
to  drive. 

"  In  spring  and  fall  days,  we  often  walk  out 
to  Manton  Lake  for  wild  flowers  or  chestnuts. 
But  we  must  always  be  in  the  house  at  half-past 
four  in  winter,  and  at  five  when  the  days  get 
longer.  Then  we  always  study  in  the  upper 
hall  till  quarter  after  six,  and  then  we  get  ready 
for  dinner." 

"  How  nice  it  is  always  to  have  somebody  to 
do  things  with.  I  am  sure  I  could  study  better 
if  I  had  somebody  to  talk  things  over  with. 


BEAR   ISLAND.  91 

Then  if  you  do  your  studying  in  the  afternoon, 
what  do  you  do  in  the  evening  ? " 

"  After  dinner  we  are  all  in  the  back  parlour 
for  awhile,  papa,  and  Donald,  and  Marjorie,  and 
everybody,  and  we  have  fun  then,  I  tell  you, 
if  there  is  n't  any  company.  We  play  games, 
or  papa  plays  with  us.  Then  if  I  have  n't 
gotten  through  my  lessons  in  the  afternoon, 
papa  lets  me  study  for  half  an  hour.  But  we 
never  can  study  after  half-past  eight,  no  matter 
what." 

"  But  suppose  you  did  n't  study  hard  in  the 
afternoon,  and  can't  get  through  by  half-past 
eight  ?  "  asked  Edna. 

"  Oh,  but  we  must  study  hard,"  said  well- 
trained  Eunice,  surprised.  "  Papa  hates 
dawdling." 

"Does  your  mother  help  you  with  your 
lessons  ?  " 

"  Not  much.  Sometimes  she  explains  some- 
thing we  don't  understand,  but  papa  says  we 
should  not  need  help.  Well,  then,  generally  we 
read  for  a  little  while,  or  mamma  reads  to  us,  and 
if  she  does,  I  embroider  something.  Sometimes 
we  sew  on  Saturday  mornings.  What  do  you 
do?" 


92  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

"  Nothing,  much,"  sighed  Edna,  dolefully. 
"  It 's  so  stupid  to  be  an  only  daughter.  The 
boys  are  older,  you  see,  and  they  have  each 
other,  and  they  do  study  very  hard  in  the 
winter.  You  see,  I  've  no  one  to  go  out 
with,  after  luncheon,  unless  I  go  with  some 
of  the  girls.  Of  course  mamma  often  takes 
me  with  her,  but  lots  of  times  she  can't. 
And  if  she 's  out  when  I  come  in,  the  house 
is  so  stupid.  And  evenings  I  just  sit  and  do 
fancy  work,  all  by  myself,  if  mamma  is  invited 
out  to  dinner,  or  anything,  and  she  is  invited 
out  such  a  lot.  I  wish  you  were  my  sister, 
Eunice." 

"  Poor  Edna  !  I  wish  you  were  my  sister,  and 
could  live  with  me  all  the  time.  I  don't  think 
I  could  leave  Cricket  and  the  rest  to  come  and 
live  with  you.  Wouldn't  it  be  nice  if  one  of 
your  brothers  was  only  a  sister  ?  I  don't  think 
boys  mind  nearly  as  much  about  being  the  only 
one.  And  sisters  are  such  a  comfort.  Let 's 
read  now.  I  peeked  ahead,  and  Jessica  is  an 
only  child,  too." 

In  the  interest  of  their  story  the  time  slipped 
by.  They  munched  some  cookies,  but  decided 
to  wait  till  Cricket's  return  before  eating  a 


BEAR  ISLAND.  93 

regular  luncheon.  They  always  provided 
themselves  with  luncheons  on  the  slightest 
pretext. 

"  Is  n't  it  time  for  Cricket  to  turn  up  ? "  said 
Eunice,  at  last,  suddenly  interrupting  herself. 
"  She  's  been  gone  perfect  ages.  I  really  believe 
her  cannibals  have  eaten  her  up." 

"  If  they  have,"  replied  Edna,  decidedly, "  they 
would  soon  repent  it.  Nobody  could  digest  her, 
for  she  would  fly  around  so.  I  believe  even  the 
pieces  of  her  would  jump  up  and  down  in  their 
stomachs." 

"I  thought  she  would  just  row  around  the 
island,  and  then  come  back  and  hail  us,  at  all 
events,"  said  Eunice,  laying  down  her  book  and 
standing  up  to  give  the  call.  The  "  wah-whoo- 
wah !  "  rang  across  the  water,  but  brought  no 
answering  cry.  They  gave  it  again  and  again, 
with  no  better  success. 

"  What  geese  we  were  to  let  that  child  go 
away  with  the  boat !  "  exclaimed  Edna,  vexedly. 
"  We  should  have  known  better.  Likely  as  not 
she 's  rowed  over  to  Plymouth  and  forgotten  us 
entirely.  Let 's  go  up  and  see  if  we  can  see  her 
from  the  top  of  the  rocks." 

Accordingly  they  climbed  to  the  highest  point. 


94  CRICKET    AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

It  was  high  noon  now,  by  the  sun,  and  very  hot. 
Not  a  sail  was  in  sight,  nor  even  a  rowboat 
anywhere. 

Everybody  had  evidently  been  driven  in  by 
the  heat,  which  was  intense.  The  tide  was 
going  out,  and  soon  a  mud-flat  would  lie  between 
them  and  the  home  shore. 

"  Gracious,  isn't  it  sizzling  hot! "  cried  Eunice, 
shading  her  eyes.  "  The  heat  just  quavers 
up  from  these  rocks.  I  believe  a  coffee-pot 
would  boil  if  you  put  it  on  top  of  my  head. 
Where  is  Cricket  ?  " 

"  The  tide  is  going  out  very  fast,"  said  Edna, 
anxiously.  "  Look  at  the  high-water  mark.  If 
we  're  not  off  here  in  less  than  half  an  hour  we 
have  to  wait  till  the  tide  is  up  again.  That 's  a 
nice  prospect,  too,  to  stay  here  and  broil  all  the 
afternoon." 

"  Horrors  ! "  cried  Eunice.  "  I  like  to  stay 
here  when  I  want  to,  but  I  don't  want  to  be 
made  to.  When  could  we  get  off,  then?"  for 
Eunice  knew  much  less  accurately  the  times  and 
tides  than  Edna,  who  always  spent  her  summers 
at  Marbury. 

"  It  was  high  tide  at  eight  this  morning,  so  it 
won't  be  entirely  out  till  two.  But  you  know 


BEAR   ISLAND.  95 

there  is  about  an  hour  and  a  half  before  ebb 
tide  that  the  flats  are  bare,  and,  of  course, 
it's  the  same  time  after  that  before  enough 
water  comes  in  to  float  a  boat.  I  don't  believe 
it 's  more  than  twelve  now.  Think  of  staying 
here  till,  say,  four  o'clock.  Let 's  call  again. 
She  might  be  over  on  the  other  side  of  Clark's 
Island." 

"  Wah-whoo-wah !  Wah-whoo-wah  !  Come 
back,  Cricket !  Wah  -  whoo  -  wah !  "  Eunice 
sent  her  clear,  strong  voice  ringing  across  the 
smooth  waters,  but  with  no  better  success  than 
before. 

"You  don't  suppose  she's  purposely  hiding 
somewhere,  do  you  ? "  asked  Edna,  doubtfully. 

"No,  indeed,"  returned  Eunice,  promptly. 
"  She  's  only  forgotten,  if  anything,  unless  some- 
thing has  happened  to  her,"  she  added,  some- 
what anxiously. 

"  Nothing  could  happen  in  Marbury  Bay," 
replied  Edna,  positively.  "  It 's  the  safest  old 
hole.  And  since  we  are  not  really  in  the  South 
Sea  Islands,  there  aren't  any  cannibals  to  eat 
her  up." 

The  island  was  only  about  a  mile  and  a  half 
from  shore,  and  they  could  plainly  see  grandma's 


96  CRICKET   AT   THE    SEASHORE. 

house  on  the  Neck.  Not  a  soul  was  in  sight,  not 
even  Eliza  and  the  children. 

"  Let 's  wave  a  handkerchief,"  suggested 
Eunice,  looking  for  hers,  "  for  the  boys  may  see 
it  and  come  out  for  us." 

"  It 's  not  much  use,"  said  Edna,  "  for  I  don't 
believe  any  one  would  notice  a  little  white 
handkerchief  fluttering  over  here,  and,  besides, 
I'm  getting  dreadfully  afraid  that  there  isn't 
time  for  any  one  to  pull  out  here  and  get  us  in 
before  the  tide  would  be  so  far  out  that  we 
would  stick  in  the  mud.  You  see  the  bottom 
is  so  flat  that  the  water  goes  out  very  quickly. 
But  let 's  try  a  handkerchief." 

"  I  have  n't  any  with  me,"  said  Eunice.  "  Take 
yours." 

"  Bother !  I  have  n't  either.  Oh,  there 's  a 
boat  coming  past.  If  that  man  would  take  us 
in,  we  might  just  get  to  the  shore.  Wave  some- 
thing. Call!  Call!" 

The  girls  shouted  vigorously,  but  the  little 
rowboat  aggravatingly  kept  on  its  way,  the 
oarsman  having  his  back  towards  them.  Then 
he  turned  his  course  a  little,  keeping  in  the 
channel  where  the  water  was  deeper. 

"  What  can  we  wave  ?  " 


BEAR   ISLAND.  97 

"  Take  your  work,  Edna.     Tie  it  to  a  stick." 

"Tie  my  work  to  a  stick?  Why,  it  would 
ruin  it." 

"No,  it  wouldn't.  What  if  it  did?  We 
don't  want  to  stay  here  all  day ; "  and  Eunice 
caught  the  linen  scarf  from  Edna's  half-unwill- 
ing hand,  and,  tying  it  to  a  stick,  waved  it 
furiously. 

"  Oh,  dear,  I  wonder  if  it  will  ruin  it  ?  Wave 
harder,  Eunice.  Wah-whoo-wah  !  Why  don't  you 
turn,  whoever  you  are  !  I  wonder  if  I  can  iron 
it  out,"  went  on  poor  Edna,  distracted  between 
the  fear  of  injury  to  her  beloved  work  and  her 
desire  to  get  off  the  island.  But  the  little  boat 
pulled  swiftly  down  the  channel,  its  owner  evi- 
dently not  desirous  of  being  caught  himself  on 
the  mud -flats,  and  was  soon  a  speck  on  the 
water. 

"  Where  can  Cricket  be  ?  "  wondered  Eunice, 
for  the  hundredth  time.  "  Edna,  I  am  afraid 
she  's  drowned  or  something,"  for  she  began  to 
be  much  more  worried  over  Cricket's  non-ap- 
pearance than  at  the  prospect  of  spending  a 
few  more  hours  than  they  had  intended  on 
the  island. 

"I'm   sure    nothing    has    happened   to   her. 


98  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

Cricket  will  never  be  drowned,  don't  be  afraid. 
I  think  she 's  just  plain  gone  off  and  forgotten 
us  —  that  bad  girl !  Won't  I  make  the  boys 
tease  her  for  this !  There !  perhaps  I  can  iron 
that  out  smooth." 


"  THE    EXILES 


CHAPTER   VII. 

THE    EXILES. 

EUNICE  made  a  telescope  of  her  hands  and 
studied  the  shore  intently. 

"  Is  n't  that  our  boat,  now,  drawn  up  by  those 
rocks  ?  No,  not  near  the  docks,  but  up  to  the 
right." 

Edna  followed  her  gaze. 

"I  do  think  it  is !  Yes,  and  that 's  Billy, 
is  n't  it  ?  and  those  little  things  are  the  twins. 
And  Eunice  !  that 's  Cricket,  this  instant !  See 
she 's  standing  up  now.  I  know  her  by  the 
broad  white  flannel  collar  on  her  blue  dress. 
Now  they  are  coming  down  to  the  beach.  She 
did  row  over  for  something  and  sat  down  to 
talk,  and  forgot  us.  What  crazy  lunatics  we 
were  to  let  her  go  off  with  the  boat ! " 

"  Cricket  has  n't  forgotten  anything  serious 
since  she  forgot  mamma's  invitation  last  spring. 
You  see,  she  never  thought  about  the  tide  going 
out,  and  meant  to  come  back  and  get  us  later. 
It  takes  so  long  to  get  used  to  the  tide.  I  do 


102  CKICKET   AT    THE    SEASHOKE. 

wish  it  would  settle  upon  some  time  of  day,  and 
keep  to  it.  Don't  you  ?  It 's  a  great  nuisance." 

"  I  guess  I  do,"  replied  Edna,  with  inelegant 
emphasis.  "  If  I  had  my  way,  the  tide  should  n't 
go  out  but  once  a  day,  and  that's  at  night. 
These  ugly  old  mud-flats  that  have  to  be  seen 
some  time  during  every  day  are  the  one  thing 
that  spoil  Marbury.  It's  so  pretty  when  the 
bay  is  full.  But,  Eunice,  we  've  got  to  make  up 
our  minds  to  stay  here  and  broil,  this  whole 
afternoon.  Even  if  Cricket  should  start  this 
minute,  she  could  n't  get  here.  Do  you  see  that 
broad,  smooth  place,  with  the  water  rippling  a 
little  on  each  side  ?  That  means  that  there  is  a 
mud-flat  there,  and  it  will  be  bare  in  about  ten 
minutes.  Oh,  goodness  gracious  me!  enchant- 
ing prospect ! "  and  Edna  plumped  herself  down 
on  the  rock  in  despair. 

"  It 's  no  worse  really  than  many  a  time  when 
we  've  been  over  here  and  staid  five  or  six  hours 
and  meant  to,"  said  Eunice,  philosophically, 
"  only  we  never  happened  to  be  caught  and  obliged 
to  stay.  And  it  might  be  worse,"  she  added, 
cheerfully.  "  We  have  luncheon,  for  one  thing. 
You  know  we  stayed  here  all  day,  once." 

"  But  then  we  expected  to,"  said  Edna,  look- 


THE    EXILES.  103 

ing  very  unresigned.  "  We  had  made  up  our 
minds  to." 

"  Very  well,  then,"  said  Eunice,  brightly, 
"  let  us  make  up  our  minds  to  stay,  now.  Let 's 
play  we  want  to,  and  meant  to  all  the  time. 
We  '11  eat  our  luncheon,  and  then  you  can  em- 
broider and  I'll  read  to  you  some  more.  Or 
let's  go  on  playing  that  we're  shipwrecked,  and 
that  Cricket  has  gone  back  with  a  raft  to  the 
ship,  to  bring  some  things  back.  Of  course, 
that  would  take  all  day." 

"If  the  ship  was  burned,"  objected  Edna, 
"  there  would  n't  be  any  wreck  to  bring  things 
from." 

"  We  '11  play  it  rained  and  put  out  the  fire," 
returned  Eunice,  imperturbably.  "  Plenty  of 
ways  to  fix  it.  Was  n't  it  fortunate  we  rescued 
your  work  and  my  book  from  the  wreck,"  she 
went  on,  changing  her  tone.  "  And  don't  let 's 
stay  here  and  bake  in  the  sun  any  longer.  I  'm 
just  drizzling  away.  Come  back  to  the  rocks 
and  eat  our  luncheon.  There 's  evidently  no  use 
waiting  any  longer  for  Cricket,"  she  added,  with 
a  laugh.  "  We  '11  have  a  lovely  afternoon,  and 
we  '11  pretend  we  meant  to  stay  all  the  time." 

"  Oh,   pretend !     I   believe    you   girls   would 


104  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

pretend  if  you  were  going  to  be  hung.  You  'd 
play  you  liked  it,"  said  Edna,  laughing,  her- 
self. 

"  Why  not  ? "  answered  Eunice,  sturdily.  "  It 
makes  things  lots  easier.  Besides,  it's  more 
fun.  Do  you  suppose  auntie  and  grandma  will 
worry  when  we  're  not  back  to  dinner  ? " 

"  No,  because  I  told  mamma  where  we  were 
going,  and  Cricket  will  have  to  tell  them  we  're 
safe,  and  that  she 's  forgotten  us.  We  can't  be 
run  away  with  very  well,  and  nothing  can  hap- 
pen to  us  here.  And,  why,  Eunice  !  look !  is  n't 
that  Cricket,  now,  rowing  towards  us  ?  No,  this 
way.  Not  far  from  shore." 

"  It  is !  it  is !  Wah  -  whoo  -  wah !  wah  -  whoo- 
wah!  Naughty,  naughty  Cricket!  wah-whoo- 
wah ! "  shrieked  Eunice,  clapping  her  hands. 

But  Edna  instantly  put  her  hands  to  her 
mouth  to  form  a  trumpet,  and  called  with  all  her 
might : 

"  Go  back,  Cricket !  go  back !  You  '11  get 
aground." 

"Wah -whoo -wah!"  came  back  faintly  over 
the  water,  and  they  could  see  the  little  figure 
bend  to  the  oar. 

"Go  back!"  screamed   Edna,  fairly  dancing 


THE    EXILES.  105 

up  and  down  in  her  excitement,  for  she  knew 
what  would  happen  better  than  Eunice  did. 
But  Cricket  evidently  did  not  understand.  She 
looked  over  her  shoulder,  waved  her  oar,  and 
pulled  on. 

"  Oh,  dear"  cried  Edna,  "  see,  that  mud-flat 
back  of  her  will  be  all  bare  in  two  minutes,  and 
she  doesn't  know  it,  and  she's  pulling  right 
across  it.  Oh,  oh,  she 's  aground !  " 

And,  indeed,  the  last  stroke  of  the  oars  had 
landed  the  boat  on  the  treacherous  bank,  where 
it  stuck  fast.  The  girls  watched  her,  eagerly, 
as  the  oars  came  up,  dripping  with  mud,  in  her 
frantic  efforts  to  push  over  it. 

"  Why  doesn't  she  sit  still  ?"  exclaimed  Edna, 
anxiously.  "  She  '11  get  the  boat  wedged  fast !  " 

But,  by  some  good  luck,  one  final  shove  of  the 
oars  sent  the  light  boat  through  the  yielding 
mud,  and  into  a  little  depression  beyond,  where 
the  water  still  flowed.  Cricket  pulled  with  all 
her  strength,  realizing  now  the  inconvenience  of 
being  stuck  fast.  There  was  still  another  flat, 
which  was  fast  uncovering  itself,  between  her 
and  the  island,  but  if  she  could  only  get  through 
that,  there  was  water  enough  beyond  to  float  her 
to  the  island.  That  had  a  rock  foundation,  and 


106  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

the  water  was  unexpectedly  deep  around  it.  But, 
unfortunately,  the  next  mud-flat  was  too  wide  to 
get  over  it  before  the  swiftly  ebbing  tide  left  it 
entirely  bare,  and  so  there,  within  five  hundred 
feet  of  the  island,  she  finally  stuck,  immovably. 
The  girls  ran  down  to  the  edge  of  the  island, 
waving  their  hands,  and  shouting. 

"I  —  guess  —  I 'm  —  stuck  !  "  called  Cricket, 
standing  up,  carefully,  and  turning  around.  For- 
tunately her  voice  could  just  be  heard. 

Eunice  and  Edna  laughed  at  the  obvious  truth 
of  her  remark. 

"  I  should  think  she  was  stuck !  What  a  little 
goose  to  try  to  get  out  here  when  the  tide  was 
so  low ! " 

"  She  is  n't  used  to  it,"  said  Eunice,  defensively. 
"  See,  now.  Five  minutes  ago  there  seemed  to 
be  water  enough  in  the  bay,  and  now  look  at  it !  " 

It  was  a  sight  to  look  at,  for  the  broad  mud^ 
flats  were  now  visible  in  every  direction,  while 
streams  of  water  still  lay  in  the  deeper  depres- 
sions. 

"I  never  noticed  before,  in  all  my  life,  how 
quickly  the  tide  goes  out,"  added  Eunice. 

"  We  never  happened  to  be  caught  on  a  desert 
island  before,"  said  Edna,  "  when  you  have  to 


THE    EXILES.  107 

notice  it.  I  suppose  we  get  so  in  the  habit  of 
calculating  upon  it,  and  knowing  by  the  looks  of 
the  water  how  long  it  will  take,  that  we  forget 
you  don't  know  so  well.  But  what  will  Cricket 
do  ?  Think  of  her  staying  out  there  for  about 
four  hours,  in  that  broiling  sun,  and  nothing  to 
eat.  Gracious,  she  has  the  worst  of  it." 

"  Could  n't  she  take  off  her  shoes  and  stock- 
ings, and  wade  in  through  the  mud  ?  "  suddenly 
asked  Eunice,  brightening. 

"No,  indeed.  She'd  sink  down  to  China,  I 
guess.  There's  just  about  no  bottom  at  all  to 
this  mud,  if  you  step  in  it.  Keep  —  perfectly  — 
still  —  Cricket,"  she  hallooed,  suddenly,  through 
her  hands,  as  Cricket  shows  signs  of  restlessness. 

"  What  will  she  do  ?  "  groaned  Eunice.  "  It 
seems  perfectly  heartless  to  sit  down  and  eat 
our  luncheon,  when  she  can't  get  a  mouthful." 

"  But  our  not  eating  won't  do  her  any  good," 
objected  Edna,  very  sensibly. 

"  Anyway,  I  'm  not  going  to  eat  anything, 
with  my  Cricket  out  there,  starving,"  cried  Eu- 
nice, determinedly. 

"  But  Eunice !  how  silly !  It  won't  help 
Cricket  any.  She  would  n't  like  to  have  you  not 
eat." 


108  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

"  I  sha'  n't  eat  a  mouthful,"  replied  Eunice, 
obstinately,  shaking  her  head. 

"  Well,  then,  I  '11  tell  you  what  we  '11  do. 
We  '11  eat  just  one  tiny  sandwich  apiece,  so  we 
won't  just  die  with  hunger,  then  we'll  call  to 
Cricket  that  we  won't  eat  the  rest  till  she  can 
get  in  here.  Then  we  '11  eat  it  before  we  go  back." 

"  Yes,  I  '11  do  that,"  answered  Eunice,  after 
considering  a  moment.  And  then  they  called  to 
Cricket. 

«  We  —  won't  —  eat  —  any — luncheon  —  till 
you  —  get  —  here.  Can  —  you  —  wait?" 

"  Have — to ! "  called  back  Cricket,  cheerfully. 
«  Will  —  it  —  be  —  long  ?  " 

"  Three  —  or  —  four  —  hours  !  "  answered 
Edna.  "  Keep  —  as  —  still  —  as  —  you  —  can, 
—  so  —  the  —  boat  —  won't  —  sink.  Can  she 
keep  still  ?  "  added  Edna,  to  Eunice. 

"  I  think  so,"  answered  Eunice,  somewhat 
doubtfully,  it  must  be  confessed.  Then  they  sat 
down,  and,  opening  their  luncheon,  selected  a 
small  sandwich  each.  It  really  took  considerable 
self-control  not  to  satisfy  two  hearty  appetites, 
then  and  there,  for  the  luncheon  looked  very 
tempting.  But  Eunice  resolutely  put  the  basket 
away. 


THE    EXILES.  109 

«  What  will  auntie  think  ? "  asked  Eunice, 
anxiously,  glancing  toward  the  shore.  "  It 's 
dinner-time,  I  guess." 

"  There  are  the  boys,  now,"  cried  Edna.  "  Yes, 
it 's  dinner-time,  and  they  've  come  down  to  see 
where  we  are."  She  stood  up  and  waved  her 
bureau  cover.  The  boys,  catching  sight  of  the 
signal,  waved  frantically  in  return.  Presently, 
all  the  others,  grandma,  auntie,  old  Billy,  and 
the  children,  were  seen  to  gather  there.  The 
boys  ran  up  and  down  the  beach,  then  all  the  fig- 
ures clustered  together,  evidently  holding  a 
council  of  war. 

"There's  just  nothing  to  be  done,"  sighed 
Edna,  "  except  to  wait  for  the  water." 

"Wait  for  the  water,  and  we'll  all  take  a 
ride,"  sang  Eunice.  "  It 's  really  much  harder 
for  them  to  be  anxious  about  us,  and  about 
Cricket,  than  for  us  to  be  here.  And  hardest 
of  all  for  Cricket.  For  pity's  sake  !  what  is  the 
child  doing  ?  " 

In  watching  the  shore  people,  they  had  for- 
gotten for  a  moment  the  stranded  boat  and  its 
small  occupant.  As  they  looked  again,  they  saw 
she  had  stuck  the  oars  in  the  mud,  blade  down, 
and  was  now  evidently  lashing  them  to  the  oar- 


110  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

locks.  This  done,  she  stood  up  and  slipped  off 
the  blue  flannel  skirt  of  her  little  sailor  suit, 
standing  up  in  her  short  white  petticoat.  She 
hung  the  skirt  by  the  hem  over  the  oars,  and 
immediately  she  had  a  very  fair  substitute  for 
a  tent,  to  shield  her  from  the  blazing  sun. 
Then,  apparently  quite  contented,  she  sat  down 
in  the  bottom  of  the  boat,  adjusting  the  cushion 
from  the  stern  seat,  for  a  back.  She  had  her 
face  towards  the  island,  and,  when  she  was  com- 
fortably settled,  she  waved  her  hand,  crying 
out: 

"  Is  n't  —  this  —  exciting  ?  I  'm  —  playing  — 
I  'm —  Marco  —  Bozzaris — in —  his  —  shrouded 
—  tent." 

After  their  consultation,  the  shore  people  had 
evidently  decided  there  was  nothing  to  be  done 
for  the  shipwrecked  mariner  and  her  exiled 
companions,  as  presently  every  one  went  into 
the  house. 

"Think  of  the  soup  and  roast  beef  they're 
devouring ! "  sighed  Eunice,  with  a  thrill  of 
envy,  —  but  she  stood  fast  to  her  resolution 
not  to  eat  luncheon  till  Cricket  could  have  some, 
too. 

Fortunately,  there  was  no  special  danger  for 


THE    EXILES.  Ill 

Cricket,  unless  she  actually  tumbled  out  of  the 
boat  into  the  deep,  soft  mud,  which  she  could 
scarcely  do,  unless  she  deliberately  jumped  out, 
so  securely  was  the  boat  held.  So  the  time 
went  on,  and  Eunice  and  Edna,  after  a  while, 
submitted  to  the  inevitable,  and  resumed  work 
and  reading,  stopping  now  and  then  to  look 
towards  Cricket,  and  call  out  sympathizing 
messages. 

"  Is  n't  —  it  —  nice  —  I  'm  —  near  —  enough 
—  to  —  talk  —  to  —  you  ? "  called  back  this 
little  Mark  Tapley  once. 

"  Are  —  you  —  very  —  hungry  ?  "  shouted 
Eunice,  after  a  long  lapse  in  this  high -keyed 
conversation.  But  there  was  no  answer,  and, 
looking  again,  they  saw  that  Cricket's  head  was 
down  on  her  arm,  which  was  stretched  out  over 
the  seat. 

"  She  's  actually  gone  to  sleep ! "  said  Eunice, 
in  amazement.  "  Well,  I  never  knew  Cricket 
to  go  to  sleep  in  the  daytime  before  in  her 
life." 

"  I  should  think  she  'd  do  anything  for  vari- 
ety," returned  Edna.  "  If  this  is  n't  the  longest 
day  that  ever  was !  I  should  think  it  was  to- 
morrow morning.  It 's  worse  than  that  day  last 


112  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

summer  when  we  went  blackberrying  and  came 
home  at  ten  in  the  morning,  thinking  it  was  six. 
Do  you  remember  ? " 

"  I  should  think  I  did !  I  never  had  a  chance 
to  forget  it,"  answered  Eunice,  "  between  papa 
and  Donald.  I  suppose  it  was  funny  to  them, 
but  I  never  could  see  how  the  time  seems  so 
long  to  us." 

«  Oh,  look,  look  ! "  cried  Edna,  suddenly.  "  Do 
you  see  that  little  ripple  where  the  water  lies  in 
the  channel  ?  The  tide  is  turning  at  last.  In 
an  hour  or  so,  now,  the  water  will  be  high  enough 
for  Cricket  to  get  over  here  at  least, — though 
we  can't  get  home  for  a  long  time  yet." 

If  the  time  had  dragged  before,  this  last  hour 
fairly  crawled.  Eagerly  the  girls  watched  the 
strengthening  ripples  and  the  eddying  current 
in  the  channel,  as  the  water  slowly  crept  higher 
in  the  outer  bay.  Slowly  the  brown  ooze  became 
a  smooth,  even,  brown  paste,  and  then,  a  few 
minutes  later,  the  usual  transformation  scene 
took  place.  The  bay  was  so  protected  by  the 
long  arm  of  land  that  half  surrounded  it  that 
there  was  not  only  no  surf,  but  no  large  waves 
even.  The  first  you  knew,  the  deepening  water 
hid  the  ugly  mud-flats,  which  were  so  level  that 


THE    EXILES.  113 

only  two  or  three  inches  of  water  were  needed 
to  transform  the  bay  into  a  thing  of  beauty. 

"  Cricket !  Cricket !  "  shrieked  both  girls,  in 
eager  chorus.  "  Wake  —  up !  wake  —  up !  the 
—  tide's  —  coming  —  in.  Crick  —  et !  " 

Cricket,  evidently  bewildered,  sat  up,  and 
looked  around  her,  then  grasped  the  situation. 
Quickly  she  pulled  down  her  tent,  and  restored 
her  skirt  to  its  original  use.  She  unlashed  her 
oars,  and  adjusted  them  in  the  oar-locks. 

"  Push — off — as  —  soon — as — you  —  can ! " 
called  Edna.  "  Rock — the — boat  —  to  —  loosen 
-it." 

Cricket  obeyed  instructions.  She  kept  up  a 
steady  swaying  movement,  dipping  her  oars 
lightly  in  the  deepening  water.  At  last,  like 
Longfellow's  ship,  "  she  starts !  she  moves !  " 

"  Hurrah ! "  shouted  Cricket,  waving  her  oar, 
and  then  applying  it  vigorously.  "  I  'm  off !  " 

One  more  determined  shove  and  she  was  off, 
and  her  boat  floated  in  the  hollow  between  her- 
self and  the  island.  It  was  but  a  moment's  work 
then  to  pull  in  shore.  If  the  two  sisters  had 
been  parted  for  a  year,  they  could  not  have 
greeted  each  other  more  rapturously.  They 
rushed  into  each  other's  arms,  kissing  and  hug- 


114  CRICKET    AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

ging  each  other,  while  Edna  declared  she  would 
eat  up  all  the  luncheon  if  they  did  n't  stop. 

"  If  I  'm  not  starved  ! "  cried  Cricket,  eagerly 
falling  to  as  soon  as  the  luncheon  was  opened. 
"  I  almost  thought  I  'd  eat  my  shoes  out  in  the 
boat.  It  was  awfully  good  of  you  not  to  eat 
anything  till  I  got  here." 

"  There 's  enough  to  last  us  till  we  get  home, 
anyway,"  said  Edna,  munching  away  at  the 
sandwiches  with  much  satisfaction.  "  Now  tell 
us,  Cricket,  what  became  of  you  ? " 

"  Nothing  became  of  me.  I  thought  I  'd  row 
over  home  for  a  drink,  and  old  Billy  and  the 
children  were  down  on  the  beach,  and  I  took 
them  out  for  a  little  row,  and  I  played  they  were 
castaways  from  the  burning  ship.  Then  I  took 
them  in,  and  sat  down  to  rest,  and  then  I 
thought  it  was  time  to  come  back  for  you.  I 
never  thought  about  the  tide,  and  there  seemed 
to  be  plenty  of  water  around,  and  suddenly  I 
found  the  water  had  all  turned  into  mud." 

"  Cricket,  your  stockings  are  all  coming  down," 
interrupted  Eunice. 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  said  Cricket,  coolly,  stopping 
long  enough  to  produce  her  side -elastics  from 
her  pocket.  "  I  took  off  my  stocking  -  coddies 


THE   EXILES.  115 

to  tie  the  oars  up  with,  to  make  my  tent.  Why, 
I  had  lots  of  fun,  girls.  I  could  n't  think  of  any 
shipwrecked  hero  who  was  ever  stuck  in  the 
mud,  so  I  played  the  mud  was  a  desert,  and  that 
I  was  Marco  What 's  -  his  -  name  in  his  shrouded 
tent,  and  — 

"  It  was  "the  Turk,  who  was  at  midnight  in  his 
shrouded  tent,"  interrupted  Eunice,  again. 

"  Was  it  ?  Well,  I  played  it,  anyway.  Then 
I  put  my  head  down  on  my  arm  to  look  like 
him,  and  I  must  have  gone  to  sleep,  for  the  sun 
was  pretty  hot,  even  under  my  tent,  and  it  made 
me  dreadfully  sleepy.  Then  I  heard  you  call 
me,  and  there  was  the  water  all  around  me. 
Can't  we  start,  now,  Edna  ?  " 

"  We  can't  get  over  that  last  bar  nearest  the 
shore,  yet  awhile,"  answered  Edna,  "  but  we  can 
start  as  soon  as  there  is  the  least  bit  of  water 
over  it,  for  by  the  time  we  get  there  the  water 
will  be  deep  enough  to  float  us." 

"  I  don't  care  how  long  we  stay,  now,"  said 
Eunice,  contentedly,  "  since  Cricket  is  here,  and 
not  out  there  all  alone.  I  '11  row  in,  Cricket." 

"  See,  there  are  the  boys  running  along  the 
shore,  and  beckoning.  Probably  they  mean  it 
is  safe  to  start  now.  Let's  get  ready.  My 


116  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

goody,  does  n't  it  seem  as  if  we  had  been  here  a 
week?" 

"  Don't  let 's  come  again  till  it 's  high  tide  in 
the  middle  of  the  day,"  said  Eunice.  "Here, 
now  we  have  the  things  all  in." 

"  Is  n't  this  boat  a  spectacle  ?"  said  Eunice, 
surveying  its  mud-splashed  sides.  "  Won't  the 
boys  give  you  a  blessing,  Miss  Scricket ! " 

"A  blessing  is  a  good  thing  to  have,"  an- 
swered Cricket,  quite  undisturbed,  as  she  yielded 
the  oars  to  Eunice,  and  sat  in  the  stern  with  Edna. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

A   NEW   PLASTER. 

"  IT  seems  to  me,  my  dear,"  said  grandma, 
standing  on  the  piazza,  and  drawing  on  her 
gloves,  "  that  it  is  a  very  great  risk  to  run  to  go 
and  leave  these  children  to  themselves  for  six 
whole  hours.  If  you  could  manage  without  me, 
I  think  I'll  stay  at  home,  even  now,"  and 
grandma  looked  somewhat  irresolutely  at  the 
carriage,  which  was  waiting  at  the  gate  to  take 
them  to  the  station. 

"  I  am  afraid  you  must  come,  mother,  on  ac- 
count of  those  business  matters,"  Mrs.  Somers 
answered.  "  But  the  children  will  be  all  right, 
I  know.  Eliza  will  look  out  for  the  small  fry, 
and  the  elders  must  look  out  for  themselves," 
she  added,  looking  down  at  the  three,  Eunice, 
Edna,  and  Cricket,  with  a  smile.  "  Don't  get 
into  any  mischief,  will  you  ?  " 

The  girls  looked  insulted. 

"  The  very  idea,  auntie ! "  exclaimed  Eunice. 
"  As  if  we  ever  got  into  mischief !  Nobody 
looks  after  us  especially,  at  Kayuna." 


118  CKICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

"  And,  consequently,"  said  auntie,  with  a  sly 
smile,  "  you  go  to  the  cider-mill  when  you  are 
put  in  charge  of  the  children,  and  get  run  away 
with  by  the  oxen." 

Eunice  got  very  red. 

"  Well,  that  was  a  great  while  ago,  auntie, 
when  we  were  quite  young,"  she  said,  with  as 
much  dignity  as  if  the  occurrence  auntie  re- 
ferred to  was  half  a  dozen  years  ago,  instead  of 
one.  "  Anyway,"  changing  the  subject,  "  we  '11 
look  after  everything  now,  and  you  can  stay  till 
the  last  train,  if  you  want  to." 

"  No,  dear,  thank  you.  We  '11  come  on  the 
5.10,  I  think,  at  any  rate.  Perhaps  earlier,  if 
we  accomplish  all  our  business.  There  !  I  did  n't 
put  on  my  watch.  Edna,  will  you  run  up-stairs 
and  get  it,  from  my  bureau  or  table  ?  I  think  I 
laid  it  on  the  table.  No,  wait.  Have  you  yours, 
mother  ?  Never  mind,  then,  Edna.  But  will 
you  please  put  it  back  in  my  drawer,  when  you 
go  up-stairs,  dear  ?  Don't  forget.  Well,  good- 
by.  Be  good  children,"  and  with  a  kiss  all 
round,  auntie  and  grandma  got  into  the  carriage. 

"  Good-by.  Be  sure  and  bring  me  some  choc- 
olate caramels,"  called  Edna. 

Auntie  smiled,  nodded,  and  waved  her  hand, 


A   NEW   PLASTER.  119 

and  then  Luke  turned  the  corner,  and  they  rolled 
away. 

"  The  boys  said  that  the  tide  would  be  right 
for  bathing,  about  eleven,"  Cricket  said,  after 
they  had  watched  them  out  of  sight.  "  Come  on, 
it 's  most  time,"  and  off  they  trooped  for  their 
plunge.  The  children  were  already  over  at  the 
Cove,  with  Eliza,  running  about  in  their  little 
blue  bathing-suits,  though  they  generally  went  in 
only  ankle  deep.  Edna  could  swim  well,  and 
Cricket  had  made  good  progress  in  the  last  week. 
Eunice  took  to  the  water  as  naturally  as  a  duck, 
and,  strange  to  say,  had  learned  to  swim  well, 
before  Cricket  did. 

After  their  bath  they  came  back  to  the  house, 
where  Eunice  and  Cricket  settled  themselves  on 
the  piazza,  to  write  letters  to  the  travellers. 
Cricket  kept  a  journal  letter  and  scribbled  in- 
dustriously every  day.  Both  Eunice  and  Cricket 
had  sometimes  very  homesick  moments,  when 
papa  and  mamma  seemed  very  far  away,  and 
Cricket,  in  particular,  occasionally  conjured  up 
very  gloomy  possibilities  of  her  pining  away, 
and  dying  of  homesickness,  before  they  returned, 
so  that  when  they  should  c<wne  home,  they  would 
find  only  her  grave,  covered  with  flowers.  She 


120  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

even  went  so  far,  in  one  desperate  moment,  as  to 
compose  a  fitting  epitaph  for  her  tombstone, 
which  was  to  be  of  white  marble,  of  course,  with 
an  angel  on  top. 

This  was  the  epitaph. 

"  Oh,  stranger,  pause  !     Beneath  this  mossy  stone 
Lies  a  poor  child,  who  died,  forsaken  and  alone. 
Her  mother  far  in  distant  lands  did  roam, 
Leaving  her  daughter,  Jean,  to  die  at  home. 
She  pined  away  in  sad  and  lonely  grief, 
Not  any  pleasures  brought  to  her  relief, 
And  when  at  last  her  family  returned, 
With  sorrow  great,  about  her  death  they  learned. 
So,  pause,  oh,  stranger !  drop  a  single  tear, 
Pity  the  grief  of  her  who  liest  here." 

This  effusion  was  the  greatest  consolation  to 
Cricket.  She  never  showed  it  to  anybody,  not 
even  to  Eunice,  but  she  often  took  it  out,  and 
read  it  with  much  satisfaction,  and  was  almost 
inclined  to  begin  pining  away  directly. 

But  on  the  whole  they  were  very  contented, 
and  it  was  much  easier  for  them  than  if  they 
had  been  left  at  Kayuna. 

Dinner-time  —  dinner  was  a  one  o'clock  feast, 
in  the  summer  —  came  when  they  had  finished 
their  letters,  and  had  them  ready  for  the  mail. 


A   NEW    PLASTER.  121 

"  We  '11  have  the  European  letters  to-night," 
said  Eunice,  joyfully,  as  they  sat  down  to  the 
table.  "  Does  it  seem  as  if  we  'd  been  here  two 
weeks  ?  Mamma  won't  seem  so  far  away,  when 
we  get  the  first  letters." 

"  There  was  the  cablegram,"  said  Edna. 

"  That  does  n't  count,"  said  Eunice.  "  It 
was  n't  mamma's  own  dear  handwriting." 

"  Papa  writed  it,"  chirped  in  Helen. 

"  No,  he  did  n't,  goosie,"  said  Cricket.  "  The 
man  here  wrote  it.  Papa  only  sent  it." 

"  I  know !  "  exclaimed  Zaidee.  "  Papa  talked 
it  into  the  box,  and  the  man  writed  it  down 
when  he  talked,"  confusing  the  telephone  at 
home  with  the  cablegram,  which,  directed  to 
Miss  Eunice  Ward,  as  the  eldest  representative, 
had  been  the  occasion  of  much  excitement  on  its 
arrival. 

After  dinner  the  three  girls  started  down  on 
the  beach,  to  sit  down  under  the  rocks  till  it 
should  be  cool  enough,  later,  to  go  for  a  ride  with 
the  ponies. 

"  There  comes  the  baby,  all  alone,"  said 
Cricket,  presently,  as  that  young  man  slipped 
out  of  the  yard  all  by  himself,  and  ran  across 
the  road  and  down  towards  the  beach  where  the 


122  CKICKET   AT   THE    SEASHORE. 

girls  were.     "  Does  n't  he  look  cunning  ?     The 
darling!" 

Kenneth,  although  he  was  nearly  four,  was 
still  The  Baby  to  the  family.  His  broad- 
brimmed  hat  hung  down  his  back,  held  around 
his  chin  by  its  elastic,  and  his  golden  hair  was 
rampant.  His  blue  eyes  were  dancing  with  mis- 
chief, and  his  hands  were  clasped  behind  his  back. 

"  Dess  what  I  dot?"  he  demanded,  pausing  at 
a  safe  distance,  and  looking  up  roguishly  from 
under  his  long  lashes. 

"  What  have  you  there,  baby  ?  See  what  he 
has,  Cricket,  and  tell  him  he  must  n't  have  it," 
said  Eunice. 

"  Bring  it  to  Cricket,  baby,"  said  that  young 
lady,  holding  out  her  hand. 

"  Dess  what  I  dot,"  repeated  the  baby,  edging 
off  a  little. 

Just  then  Zaidee  appeared  from  the  house. 
Kenneth  immediately  trotted  off  up  the  beach 
at  the  sight  of  her.  She  ran  after  him. 

"  Do  away !  "  he  cried,  holding  his  possession, 
whatever  it  was,  more  tightly.  "  You  tan't  have 
it,  Zaidee.  I  dot  it." 

"  What 's  the  matter,  Zaidee  ?  "  called  Eunice. 
"Where's  Eliza?" 


A   NEW    PLASTER.  123 

"  She 's  dressing  Helen.  Eunice,  Kenneth 
has  auntie's  gold  watch.  She  left  it  on  the  little 
table  where  she  keeps  her  God-books  "  —  for  so 
the  twins  always  called  the  Bible  and  Prayer- 
book  — "  and  he 's  run  off  with  it.  I  guess 
auntie  forgot  it.  Ought  he  to  have  it,  Eunice  ?  " 

"  Of  course  not,"  said  Eunice,  springing  up. 
"  Edna,  auntie  told  us  to  put  it  away,  and  we 
forgot  it.  Dear  me !  I  hope  he  won't  drop  it. 
Baby,  come  here  and  give  the  watch  to  Eunice." 
She  went  slowly  towards  him,  holding  out  her 
hand. 

But  baby  hugged  his  treasure.  "  I  dot  tick- 
tick  !  "  he  announced,  triumphantly.  "  Tennet 
likes  it.  Oo  tan't  have  it,"  and  off  he  started 
as  fast  as  two  little  legs  could  carry  him,  over 
the  soft  sand  till  he  reached  the  firmer  beach, 
which  the  receding  tide  had  left  hard. 

Eunice  sprang  after  him.  The  baby  looked 
back  over  his  shoulder,  greatly  enjoying  the 
race,  tripped  over  a  bit  of  stone,  and  fell  head- 
long, the  watch  shooting  on  ahead.  He  gave  a 
frightened  cry  as  he  fell,  but  the  next  instant, 
when  Eunice  reached  him,  he  lay  motionless. 
Hurriedly  she  raised  him  up.  A  stream  of 
blood  poured  from  an  ugly  gash  in  his  poor  liitle 


124  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

forehead,  cut  on  a  piece  of  glass  that  was  half 
imbedded  in  the  sand.  As  she  raised  him  his 
golden  head  fell  back  heavily,  and  his  eyes  were 
closed. 

"  Oh,  girls,  girls  !  "  shrieked  Eunice.  "  Ken- 
neth is  dead !  he 's  killed !  he 's  killed !  " 

Cricket  and  Edna  were  already  by  her  side. 

"  Run,  Zaidee  —  Edna  —  run  for  Eliza.  Get 
some  water,  Cricket.  Oh,  baby,  speak  to  me," 
poor  frightened  Eunice  cried,  half  beside  herself 
at  the  gruesome  sight  of  the  baby's  white,  still 
face,  and  that  dreadful  blood  welling  up  so  fast, 
and  staining  everything  with  its  vivid  red. 
Cricket  flew  to  the  edge  of  the  beach,  dipping 
water  up  in  the  crown  of  her  sailor  hat.  She  tore 
off  her  soft  Windsor  tie  to  use  for  a  handkerchief 
(which,  of  course,  she  didn't  have),  to  wipe  off 
the  streaming  blood.  The  little  face  looked 
ghastly  white,  in  contrast  to  the  blood-soaked 
hair  about  it. 

Eliza  came  flying  from  the  house  with  the 
Pond's  Extract  bottle  in  one  hand  and  a  bundle 
of  old  linen  in  the  other,  articles  that  were  al- 
ways at  hand,  ready  for  use. 

"  Bring  him  into  the  shade,"  she  called,  as 
she  ran,  and  Eunice,  with  Kenneth  in  her  arms, 


A   NEW   PLASTER.  125 

hurried  up  the  beach.  Eliza  took  him  as  they 
met,  and  fairly  flew  back  into  the  yard. 

"  Oh,  Billy  !  "  she  called,  passing  him,  "  go 
for  the  doctor  as  fast  as  you  can.  Kenneth's 
dreadfully  hurt.  No,  Miss  Edna,  you  go.  You 
can  go  quicker ; "  and  Edna  flew. 

Eliza,  frightened  herself  by  the  child's  uncon- 
sciousness, dropped  on  the  grass  under  a  tree, 
trying  to  stanch  the  blood  that  now  flowed  less 
freely.  Eunice  ran  for  hartshorn,  Cricket  for 
water.  As  they  washed  away  the  blood,  they 
could  see  the  long,  ugly  cut  just  over  his  eye. 
Eliza  laid  linen  bandages  soaking  in  Pond's  Ex- 
tract over  the  place,  but  in  a  moment  they  were 
stained  through. 

Edna  came  rushing  back,  panting  and  breath- 
less. 

"  The  doctor  's  gone  away  —  won't  be  back 
for  ever  so  long  —  they  '11  send  him  right  over 
when  he  comes.  Oh,  Eliza !  will  Kenneth 
die?" 

Zaidee  set  up  a  shriek  at  the  word. 

"  Be  still,  Zaidee,"  ordered  Cricket,  slipping 
her  hand  over  the  little  girl's  mouth.  "  You  go 
and  find  poor  Helen,  and  help  her  finish  her 
dressing." 


126  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

Zaidee  went  off,  sobbing,  and  Eunice  asked, 
anxiously : 

"  Could  n't  we  plaster  it  up  ourselves  ?  I 
know  papa  says  the  edges  of  a  cut  like  that 
ought  to  be  drawn  together  as  soon  as  possible, 
and  bandaged.  I  know  how  he  does  it.  He 
sops  the  place  off,  and  washes  the  cut  out,  and 
puts  strips  of  sticking-plaster  over  it,  and  then 
ties  it  up  in  a  dry  bandage." 

"  Oh,  it 's  a  head  you  have,  Miss  Eunice,"  said 
Eliza,  who  showed  her  Irish  blood  by  her  terror. 

"  You  get  some  sticking-plaster,  Miss  Cricket, 
while  I  sop  off  the  blood.  Oh,  my  pretty !  my 
pretty !  See  !  he 's  opening  his  eyes.  Do  you 
know  'Liza,  lovey  ?  " 

The  heavy  blue  eyes  opened,  languidly,  and 
the  yellow  head  stirred  a  little.  The  motion 
set  the  blood  flowing  again. 

"  Kenneth,"  said  Eunice,  bending  down  beside 
him ;  "  here 's  sister !  wake  him  up,  if  you  can, 
'Liza.  Papa  wouldn't  let  Zaidee  go  to  sleep 
last  winter  when  she  fell  off  the  bedstead  and 
bumped  her  head  so.  Baby !  wake  up,  pet !  " 
and  she  kissed  him,  eagerly. 

In  a  few  minutes,  Cricket  came  running  out 
of  the  house.  "  We  can't  find  any  sticking- 


A    NEW    PLASTER.  127 

plaster,  and  we  've  looked  everywhere.  Edna 
says  she  does  n't  know  if  her  mother  has  any. 
What  shall  we  do  ?  "  I  know  it  ought  to  be  put 
together  right  away,  else  it  wouldn't  heal  so 
well.  Oh,  wait !  I  know ! "  and  back  she  darted. 
Immediately  she  reappeared  with  a  part  of  a 
sheet  of  postage  stamps. 

"These  will  do,  'Liza,"  she  said,  excitedly. 
"  Now,  is  the  cut  all  washed  out  ?  Here,  I  can 
do  it.  I've  watched  papa  lots  of  times." 

Cricket  knelt  down  by  the  baby  and  dipped  a 
piece  of  linen  in  water.  The  flow  of  blood 
was  very  slight  by  this  time.  She  wiped  Ken- 
neth's forehead  off,  carefully,  over  and  over, 
and  then  the  cut,  itself,  looking  to  see  if  any  bit 
of  glass  or  sand  was  still  in  it.  Then,  with 
firm,  gentle  little  fingers,  she  drew  the  gaping 
edges  together  closely,  and  held  them,  while 
Eunice  moistened  some  postage  stamps  in  water, 
and  laid  them  in  place. 

"  Cricket !  how  can  you  do  that  ?  How  do 
you  know  how  ?  "  exclaimed  Edna,  who  kept  in 
the  rear,  since  the  sight  of  the  blood  made  her 
feel  a  little  faint  and  sick. 

"I've  seen  papa  loads  of  times,"  answered 
Cricket,  in  her  matter-of-fact  way.  "If  only 


128  CKICKET   AT    THE    SEASHOKE. 

we  had  some  surgeon's  plaster.  But  that  will 
hold  for  now.  Bind  this  strip  tight  around  it 
now,  'Liza.  Baby,  can't  you  talk  a  little  ?  Do 
you  know  Cricket  ?  " 

"  Tritet,"  repeated  Kenneth,  with  a  faint  little 
smile.  "  Tritet  take  baby." 

"  Let  me  have  him,"  begged  Cricket,  and 
Eliza  laid  him  gently  in  his  little  sister's  arms. 

"  Eunice,  there 's  Mrs.  Bemis  coming  over," 
said  Edna,  "  I  'm  so  glad." 

Mrs.  Bemis  was  the  doctor's  wife.  She  came 
hastily  up  to  the  little  group. 

"  I  was  out  when  Edna  came,  and  just  got  in. 
The  girl  told  me  some  one  was  hurt,  so  I  came 
right  over.  The  baby,  is  it  ?  poor  little  soul ! 
has  he  lost  all  that  blood  ?  did  he  cut  himself  ?  " 

Eunice  explained,  and  Cricket  told  Eliza  to 
unfasten  the  bandage  to  ask  Mrs.  Bemis  if  it 
was  all  right.  At  the  sight  of  four  pink  stamps, 
the  doctor's  wife  exclaimed  in  astonishment : 

"  What  have  you  put  on  for  a  plaster  ?  It 
looks  beautifully  done." 

"  Them 's  postage  stamps,"  volunteered  Eliza, 
quickly.  "  Miss  Cricket  could  n't  find  any  stick- 
ing-plaster, so  she  brought  this.  Oh,  she  's  her 
father's  own  child  for  the  doctorin'." 


A   NEW    PLASTEK.  129 

"  I  thought  they  might  do,"  explained  Cricket, 
rather  shyly.  "  I  knew  I  ought  to  have  strips 
of  plaster,  of  course,  but  I  could  n't  find  any.  I 
thought  the  cut  ought  to  be  drawn  together  as 
soon  as  possible." 

"  You  're  a  thoughtful  child,"  said  Mrs.  Bemis, 
warmly. 

"  But  Eunice  thought  of  doing  it  first,"  an- 
swered Cricket,  quickly.  "  I  only  thought  of 
the  postage  stamps." 

"  He 's  too  heavy  for  you,  my  dear,"  said  Mrs. 
Bemis,  then.  "  Carry  him  gently  into  the 
house,  Eliza.  He's  faint  with  the  loss  of  so 
much  blood.  Let  him  go,  dear,"  as  Cricket  de- 
murred. "  Eliza  can  carry  him  better  than  you. 
Let  me  give  him  a  few  drops  of  this,  first,"  and 
she  moistened  the  baby's  lips  with  a  few  drops 
from  a  flask  she  had  brought  in  her  hand. 

When  the  little  procession  reached  the  hall 
door,  Mrs.  Bemis  said  : 

"  Let  me  take  care  of  him  now,  with  Eliza, 
girls.  You  keep  the  twins  amused  out  -  of  - 
doors,"  for  Zaidee  and  Helen  came  creeping 
down  the  staircase,  looking  frightened  to  death. 
The  girls  willingly  turned  back,  having  taken 
them  in  charge. 


130  CRICKET   AT   THE    SEASHORE. 

"  Oh,  the  watch  !  "  suddenly  exclaimed  Edna, 
and  they  all  raced  down  to  the  beach,  where  the 
accident  had  happened.  The  watch  still  lay, 
gleaming  in  the  sunlight,  where  it  had  fallen, 
ticking  as  unconcernedly  as  if  no  adventure  had 
befallen  it.  Fortunately,  it  had  alighted  on  a 
particularly  soft  bit  of  sand.  Edna  picked  it  up. 

"  If  only  I  had  n't  forgotten  to  put  this  away 
when  mamma  told  me  to,  all'  this  would  n't  have 
happened,"  she  said,  remorsefully. 

"  I  suppose  Kenneth  just  slipped  in  there  after 
'Liza  finished  dressing  him,"  said  Eunice,  "  and 
saw  it  lying  on  the  table.  You  know  he 's  always 
teasing  auntie  to  show  him  her  '  tick-tick.' " 

They  went  slowly  back  into  the  yard,  scarcely 
knowing  what  to  do  with  themselves.  They 
could  not  settle  to  any  of  their  regular  amuse- 
ments, and  nobody  wanted  to  go  off  riding.  The 
twins  were  still  under  the  tree,  where  they  had 
left  them.  Helen  ran  towards  them. 

"  Eunice,  won't  you  please  make  Zaidee  stop 
drinking  up  all  the  Pond's  Extrap  ?  She  says 
she  likes  it,  and  I  'm  afraid  it  will  kill  her,"  she 
said,  half  crying.  "  I  told  her  to  don't,  and  she 
did  n't  don't." 

"  Put  the  bottle  right  down,  Zaidee,"  ordered 


A   NEW   PLASTER.  131 

Eunice,  laughing.  "  If  you  drink  the  Pond's 
Extract,  what  will  you  do  when  you  fall  down 
and  hurt  yourself,  next  time  ?  " 

Zaidee  took  a  last  hasty  swallow.  Strange  to 
say,  she  did  like  it,  very  much. 

"  I  suppose  it  goes  all  down  inside  my  legs," 
she  said,  with  calm  conviction,  "  and  if  I  bump 
my  legs  it  will  do  them  lots  more  good  inside 
than  outside.  Come  on,  Helen.  'Liza  said  cook 
would  give  us  our  supper  to-night,  and  she's 
calling  us." 

"  What  funny  children,"  exclaimed  Edna. 
"  Does  Zaidee  really  like  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  really.  'Liza  keeps  the  bottle  locked 
up.  Is  n't  it  funny  ?  " 

Just  before  auntie  and  grandma  returned,  Dr. 
Bemis  came  over,  and  went  to  see  his  little  pa- 
tient. He  was  amused  at  Cricket's  original 
plaster,  for  which  he  carefully  substituted  the 
proper  article,  but  he  pronounced  the  dressing  of 
the  cut  very  nicely  done,  and  said  that  the  cut 
would  not  have  healed  so  well  as  he  hoped  it 
would  now,  if  it  had  been  left  open  for  that  two 
hours  that  elapsed  before  he  could  get  there. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

GEORGE     W.     AND     MARTHA. 

A  RATTLING,  banging,  clattering  sound,  like  a 
small  army  of  tin  pans  on  a  rampage,  suddenly 
woke  the  echoes  one  still,  sultry  afternoon. 
Auntie  Jean  thought  it  was  the  circus,  and  sighed 
as  she  wondered  if  they  were  going  to  keep  it  up 
long  enough  to  make  it  worth  while  for  her  to 
leave  her  cool  room  and  her  afternoon  nap,  to  go 
and  stop  them.  Grandma  heard  it,  and  supposed 
it  was  Cricket,  trying  some  new  experiment  as  a 
tinware  merchant,  and  hoped  she  would  soon 
turn  her  attention  to  some  different  employment. 
Cricket  heard  it,  and  promptly  started  for  the 
scene  of  action,  meeting,  in  the  hall,  Eunice  and 
Edna,  who  came  running  down-stairs,  as  well  as 
the  boys,  who  appeared  from  the  kitchen,  where 
they  had  been  foraging  for  a  mid-afternoon 
lunch. 

The  disturbance  came  from  the  front  piazza, 
but  when  they  went  out  there  nothing,  for  a  mo- 
ment, was  visible,  though  the  same  mysterious 
whacking  and  banging  went  on,  under  the  table. 


GEORGE   W.    AND   MARTHA.  133 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  they  all  exclaimed,  but  straight- 
way the  question  was  solved,  for  out  from  under 
the  table-cover  backed  a  half-grown  black  kitten, 
with  its  head  firmly  wedged  into  a  tin  tomato 
can.  Backing  and  scratching,  as  a  cat  will  when 
its  head  is  covered,  the  poor  little  thing,  evidently 
half  frantic,  tumbled  up  against  the  chairs  and 
the  side  of  the  house,  mewing  most  frightfully 
and  banging  its  inconvenient  headdress  against 
the  piazza  floor. 

"  You  poor  little  cat !  Has  some  horrid  boy 
been  abusing  you  ?  "  cried  Cricket,  making  a  dive 
for  it,  but  dropping  it,  when  she  caught  it,  with 
equal  promptness,  as  its  sharp  claws  tore  her 
hands.  "  Why,  stop  !  you  dreadful  little  thing ! 
How  you  hurt  me  !  " 

"  Pick  it  up,  boys,"  begged  Edna,  as  the  cat 
resumed  its  backward  way.  "  Do  get  that  can 
off.  How  did  any  one  ever  get  it  on,  do  you 
suppose  ?  Here,  kitty !  kitty  !  " 

"  Curiosity  killed  a  cat,  they  say,"  said  Will, 
watching  his  chance  at  it.  "  I  suppose  it  wanted 
to  see  the  inside  of  that  can,  and  now  that  it  has 
seen  it,  it  isn't  satisfied.  There's  no  suiting 
some  people.  There  you  are,  sir ! "  and  Will, 
having  caught  the  table-cloth  from  the  table, 


134  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

sending  the  magazines  and  papers  in  a  shower  to 
the  floor,  threw  it  over  the  poor  little  black  thing, 
so  that,  in  picking  it  up,  he  could  muffle  its  claws, 
so  that  it  could  not  scratch.  Its  neck  was  torn 
a  little,  with  the  sharp,  rough  edges  of  the  tin 
can,  and  a  redoubled  chorus  of  frightened  meows 
greeted  his  first  attempt  to  remove  it. 

"  Should  think  a  whole  orchestra  of  cats  was 
shut  up  in  here,"  Will  observed,  trying  another 
direction.  "  Arch,  get  out  your  knife,  and  see 
if  you  can  rip  up  this  can  a  little.  Jove,  but  it 's 
snug!  We  can  dispense  with  a  little  of  that 
music,  my  fine  fellow.  There  —  you  —  are,"  as 
Archie,  with  a  final  careful  twist,  drew  off  the 
can.  Once  out  of  its  tin  bondage,  the  little 
creature  seemed  too  frightened  to  move,  and 
suddenly  curled  down  under  the  protecting 
table-cover,  to  restore  its  ruffled  fur,  with  many 
a  piteous  mew. 

The  girls  gathered  around  to  pet  and  soothe 
it. 

"  Keep  away,  girls.  Don't  touch  it  yet  with 
your  hands.  It 's  so  frightened  still  it  might 
scratch  you.  Here,  Cricket,  take  it  in  the  table- 
cloth, there.  Better  give  it  something  to  eat. 
It 's  a  stray  cat,  and  probably  half  starved,  and 


GEORGE    W.    AND    MARTHA.  135 

that 's  why  it  tried  to  eat  tomato  cans,  like  a 
goat." 

Cricket  bore  off  her  charge  to  the  kitchen, 
where  she  fed  and  soothed  it  with  such  good 
effect  that,  when  she  came  back,  half  an  hour 
later,  the  little  black  cat  cuddled  down  on  her 
arm,  purring  like  a  teakettle  in  spite  of  its 
wounded  neck. 

"  Is  n't  it  a  dear  ?  "  she  said,  admiringly.  "  I 
think  grandma  will  let  me  keep  it.  We  have  n't 
any  cat  in  the  house  since  Wallops  died,  and 
I  love  them." 

Grandma  was  entirely  willing  that  the  little 
waif  should  be  added  to  the  family,  and  so  it  was 
legally  adopted  by  Cricket,  with  all  sorts  of 
solemn  ceremonies.  Then  came  the  naming  it, 
always  a  serious  difficulty. 

"  I  want  a  very  appropriate  name,"  meditated 
Cricket,  aloud. 

"  The  Cat  in  the  Iron  Mask,"  suggested  Will. 

"  Too  long.  Think  of  calling  all  that  out 
when  I  want  him  in  a  hurry." 

"  Cantankerous,"  said  Archie. 

"  No,  I  want  a  regular  name." 

"  Can  -  on  Farrar,  then.  That 's  a  regular 
name,  and  it 's  a  very  appropriate  one." 


136  CEICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

"  I  don't  like  that,  either.  I  want  just  a  plain, 
common,  every -day  sort  of  name,  like  George 
Washington." 

"  Very  well,  take  George  Washington,  then. 
That  is  very  appropriate  indeed.  He  could  n't 
tell  a  lie,  and  probably  your  cat  can't  either." 

"  Do  you  think  he  's  dignified  enough  to  be 
called  George  Washington ! "  asked  Cricket, 
doubtfully,  watching  the  Nameless  jump  around 
after  his  tail.  She  had  had  him  for  two  days 
now,  and  he  had  quite  recovered  from  his  tinny 
imprisonment.  He  proved  to  be  a  most  well- 
bred  and  entertaining  little  cat,  for  he  came 
when  he  was  called  and  went  when  he  was  bid, 
in  orthodox  fashion,  and  made  himself  entirely 
at  home. 

"  Probably  George  was  frisky  in  his  youth,"  said 
Will.  "  Especially  when  he  was  courting  Martha." 

"Then  I'll  do  this:  I'll  call  him  George 
Washington  as  far  as  his  tail,  and  I  '11  call  that 
Martha,  because  he  runs  after  it.  Come  here, 
George  W.,  you  've  run  after  Martha  long  enough 
now.  Come  here,  and  be  christened." 

And  so  George  Washington  he  remained  to 
the  end  of  the  chapter.  He  soon  learned  his 
name,  and  would  come  flying  at  the  first  sound 


FEEDING    GEORGE    WASHINGTON "CRICKET    BORE 

OFF    HER    CHARGE    TO    THE    KITCHEN  " 


GEORGE    W.    AND    MARTHA.  139 

of  it.  He  proved  to  be  a  pet  that  required  con- 
siderable attention.  He  was  of  an  especially 
sociable  nature,  and,  if  left  alone  in  any  room, 
he  would  howl  in  mournful  and  prolonged 
meows,  that  speedily  brought  some  one  to  the 
rescue.  He  tagged  the  girls  like  a  little  dog, 
and  would  stand  on  the  shore  crying  like  a  child 
if  they  went  off  in  the  boat  and  would  not  take 
him.  He  slept  in  Cricket's  bed  at  night,  and  if 
by  any  chance  he  was  shut  out  when  the  family 
went  to  bed,  and  the  house  was  locked  up,  he 
would  make  night  hideous  with  lamentations,  to 
an  extent  that  would  soon  bring  some  one  down 
to  let  him  in. 

One  day  the  familiar  meow  sounded,  and 
Cricket,  who  was  curled  up  in  the  hammock, 
reading,  instantly  sprang  up. 

"  There  's  George  W."  for  so  his  name  was 
generally  abbreviated,  "  and  he 's  shut  up  some- 
where, and  I  let  him  out  myself  only  a  few  min- 
utes ago.  I  believe  he  gets  into  places  through 
the  keyholes,  and  I  don't  see  why  he  does  n't  get 
out  through  'em." 

But  George  was  not  to  be  found  in  any  of  his 
usual  haunts,  and  his  meows  ceasing,  Cricket 
went  back  to  her  book.  Presently,  a  prolonged 


140  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

cry  was  heard  again,  and  again  Cricket  started 
in  quest  of  him.  She  looked  and  called  every- 
where, but  George  W.  was  nowhere  to  be  found, 
though  his  meow,  with  a  quality  peculiar  to  him- 
self, seemed  to  come  from  no  particular  place, 
but  to  pervade  the  air  generally. 

"  Come  and  help  me  find  George  W.,"  she 
called  to  Eunice  and  Edna,  who  were  also  on 
the  piazza.  "  He 's  mewing  dreadfully,  and  I 
can't  find  him." 

"  He 's  worse  than  a  baby,"  said  Eunice,  un- 
winding herself  from  the  comfortable,  twisted- 
up  position  in  the  steamer  chair,  which  she 
loved.  "  Could  n't  you  let  him  cry  a  little  while 
and  give  him  a  lesson  ?  " 

"  I  would  n't  mind  giving  him  a  lesson,  but 
I  'm  afraid  he  'd  give  me  one  in  patience,"  re- 
turned Cricket,  laughing.  "  I  'm  sure  I  don't 
want  to  listen  to  that  music  long.  There,  he 's 
stopped  again,  now." 

But  five  minutes  later,  George  W.  renewed 
his  complaints. 

"  Now  I  'm  going  to  let  him  cry ! "  said 
Cricket,  returning  in  despair  from  another 
search.  So  down  she  sat,  shutting  her  ears  to 
outside  sounds  in  her  comfortable  fashion. 


GEORGE    W.    AND    MARTHA.  141 

Presently  grandma  appeared  at  the  hall  door. 

"  Cricket,  my  dear,  George  Washington  seems 
to  want  something.  Don't  you  think  you'd 
better  try  and  find  him  ? " 

"  Grandma,  he 's  been  crying  and  weeping  for 
an  hour  at  least,  and  I  just  can't  find  him.  But 
I  '11  look  again." 

But  wherever  George  W.  was,  he  was  certainly 
securely  hidden.  He  cried  now  and  then  at 
intervals,  but  it  was  impossible  to  locate  the 
sound,  since  it  came  first  from  one  side,  then 
from  another. 

"  He  's  between  the  floors  somewhere,"  said 
Will,  who  had  joined  the  search.  "  The  ques- 
tion is,  where  ? " 

"  We  '11  have  to  decide  that  question  at  once," 
said  auntie,  "because  we  can  scarcely  have  all 
the  floors  in  the  house  taken  up.  How  could  he 
have  gotten  in  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  through  some  small  hole  in  the 
garret  floor.  He 's  probably  forgotten  the  way 
back.  Or,  perhaps  there 's  some  hole  down 
cellar  where  he  got  inside,  and  ran  up  after  the 
mice." 

"Perhaps  the  mice  have  gotten  the  best  of 
him,  and  are  tearing  him  limb  from  limb,"  sug- 


142  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

gested  Archie,  making  such  a  horrible  face  that 
Helen  retreated  behind  Aunt  Jean  in  terror. 

All  the  afternoon  they  followed  the  sounds  at 
intervals,  listening  at  the  floor,  and  calling  over 
and  over.  George  W.  seemed  to  be  exploring 
the  entire  interior  of  the  house.  Late  in  the 
afternoon,  the  cries  came  more  constantly  from 
the  floor  of  the  trunkroom,  a  small  apartment 
off  the  garret,  and  directly  over  Eunice's  room. 
There  was  a  small  knot  -  hole  in  the  floor,  and 
the  light  from  a  window  fell  directly  on  it,  prob- 
ably attracting  George  W.  there.  Saws  and 
hatchets  were  brought,  and  the  boys  soon  had  a 
piece  of  the  floor  up,  making  a  hole  large 
enough  for  several  cats  the  size  of  George  to 
come  up. 

"  George  evidently  likes  this  sort  of  thing," 
said  Archie,  hacking  away.  "  First  the  tin  can, 
then  the  floor.  Come  out  here,  old  fellow." 
But  he  was  evidently  frightened  away  by  the 
noise,  and  could  not  be  induced  to  come  up. 

"  Bring  a  saucer  of  milk,  Edna,"  said  Mrs. 
Somers.  "  Stand  it  at  one  side,  and  then  we 
will  all  go  away  and  he  will  soon  come  up."  So 
the  milk  was  brought,  and  as  it  was  supper-time, 
they  all  went  down  and  left  George  W.  to  his 


GEORGE    W.   AND    MARTHA.  143 

own  devices.  Cricket  was  much  disposed  to 
stay  and  make  sure  that  he  came  up,  but  she 
was  finally  persuaded  to  come  down  with  the 
rest. 

"  Is  n't  it  funny  how  his  voice  came  from  all 
over?"  she  said,  at  the  supper-table.  "Prob- 
ably he  was  right  there  under  the  trunkroom 
floor  all  the  time.  He  was  a  regular  philan- 
thropist." 

"A  regular  what?"  asked  grandma  and 
Auntie  Jean,  together. 

"  A  philanthropist.  Don't  you  know  ?  a  man 
who  — who  talks  where  he  is  n't  ?  " 

"A  ventriloquist!  "  said  Will.  "That's  what 
you  mean." 

"  Do  I  ?  Auntie,  what  is  a  philanthropist, 
then?" 

"  A  philanthropist  is  one  who  loves  man,  dear, 
and  who  — " 

"  Then  when  a  girl 's  engaged,  is  she  a  philan- 
thropist?" broke  in  Cricket,  with  her  glass  of 
milk  half  raised.  The  others  all  laughed. 

"  She  is,  very  often,"  said  grandma. 

"  I  know  the  man  she  is  engaged  to  is  called 
her  finance,  but  I  never  knew  she  was  called  a 
philanthropist,"  went  on  Cricket,  thoughtfully. 


144  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

There  was  another  shout. 

"  Fianc6,  dear,"  said  auntie,  as  soon  as  she 
could  speak,  "  and  the  girl  is  n't  often  called  a 
philanthropist,  though  she  often  is  one." 

"  Dear  me,"  sighed  Cricket.  "  Words  are  very 
puzzling.  They  seem  to  be  made  to  say  what 
you  don't  think." 

"  Oftentimes,  my  little  Talleyrand,"  said 
grandma. 

After  supper,  Cricket  ran  up  to  see  if  George 
W.  had  made  his  appearance  yet.  A  few  mo- 
ments later,  the  household,  assembled  on  the 
front  piazza,  was  startled  by  a  crash  and  a 
scream  in  Cricket's  voice.  With  one  accord, 
everybody  rushed  up-stairs.  The  sounds  seemed 
to  come  from  Eunice's  room.  As  they  opened 
the  door,  a  cloud  of  dust  poured  out,  from  a 
mass  of  plaster  that  lay  on  the  floor,  while  from 
a  hole  in  the  ceiling  a  length  of  black  -  stock- 
inged leg  kicked  wildly.  Above,  a  pair  of  fists 
beat  a  tattoo  on  the  floor,  while  Cricket  called, 
loudly : 

"  For  goodness'  sake,  somebody  come  and  pull 
me  up ;  I  'm  breaking  my  other  leg  off." 

Will  sprang  for  the  garret  stairs,  stumbling 
headlong,  at  the  top,  over  George  W.,  who  took 


GEORGE    W.    AND    MARTHA.  145 

the  opportunity  to  spring  over  his  head,  alight- 
ing right  in  the  midst  of  the  group  of  eager 
children,  each  of  whom  was  trying  to  get  up- 
stairs first,  and  in  a  moment  everybody  lay  on 
top  of  everybody  else,  at  the  foot  of  the  stair- 
case. 

Will,  meantime,  found  his  feet,  and  went  to 
Cricket's  rescue.  It  was  dark  in  the  trunk- 
room,  under  the  eaves,  but  there  was  light 
enough  to  see  Cricket,  with  one  leg  stretched 
out  straight,  and  the  other  one  so  firmly  wedged 
into  the  hole  in  the  floor  that  she  could  not 
move. 

"  My  leg  feels  as  George  W.'s  head  must 
have  when  he  was  caught  in  the  tomato  can," 
said  Cricket,  as  Will  drew  up.  "  It 's  a  pretty 
tight  squeeze.  I  don't  believe  there 's  any  skin 
left  on  it.  I  just  came  up  quickly,  and  I 
couldn't  see  very  well,  and  the  first  thing  I 
knew  my  foot  slipped  into  a  hole,  and  there  was 
not  any  floor  there,  and  I  slumped  through." 

"  Are  you  hurt  ?  Is  Cricket  hurt  ? "  cried 
everybody,  scrambling  in,  in  hot  haste. 

"  Not  much,"  said  Cricket,  ruefully,  feeling 
her  barked  knee.  "  I  came  down  pretty  hard 
on  my  elbow,  and  I  nearly  knocked  it  up  to  the 


146  CKICKET   AT    THE    SEASHOKE. 

top  of  my  head,  and  my  back  feels  funny,  but 
I  'm  not  hurt,  not  a  bit !  " 

"  What  a  mercy  the  child  did  n't  fall  all  the 
way  through,  and  go  down  on  the  lower  floor," 
said  grandma,  who  had  just  arrived  on  the  scene. 

"  Why,  I  could  n't,  said  Cricket,  surprised. 
"  My  other  leg  stopped  me." 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE    ECHO    CLUB. 

EUNICE  and  Edna  went  sauntering  along  the 
beach,  with  arms  around  each  other's  waists. 
They  were  bending  their  steps  towards  one  of 
their  favourite  retreats,  under  some  big  rocks.  It 
was  high  tide,  and  the  water  lay  dimpling  and 
smiling  in  the  sunlight.  Down  beside  the  dock, 
Will  and  Archie  were  giving  their  sailboat, 
the  Gentle  Jane,  a  thorough  cleaning  and  over- 
hauling. Cricket  was — the  girls  didn't  know 
exactly  where. 

"  There  she  is  now,"  said  Eunice,  as  they  came 
around  the  rocks.  Cricket  lay  in  her  favourite 
attitude,  full  length  on  the  sand,  in  which  her 
elbows  were  buried,  with  a  book  under  her  nose. 
She  sat  up  as  the  girls  came  nearer. 

"  I  have  an  idea,"  she  announced,  beamingly. 

"  Very  hot  weather  for  ideas ! "  said  Eunice, 
fanning  herself  with  her  broad-brimmed  hat. 

"  Eunice,  you  're  dreadfully  brilliant,  are  n't 
you  ?  Anyway,  I  have  an  idea,  and  I  just  got  it 
from  '  Little  Women,'  " 


148  CKICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

Edna  threw  herself  on  the  sand.  "  Don't  let 's 
do  it,  if  we  have  to  do  anything,"  she  said, 
fanning  likewise. 

"  Now,  you  're  brilliant.  But  you  're  a  lazy- 
bones, you  know.  Tell  us  your  idea,  Cricket." 

"  You  know  how  Jo  and  the  rest  had  a  club  and 
published  a  paper  ?  Now,  then,  let  us  have  a 
club  and  publish  a  paper  ourselves.  It  would 
be  lots  of  fun." 

Eunice  and  Edna  looked  rather  startled  at 
Cricket's  ambition. 

"  Who  would  write  the  pieces  for  it  ? " 
demanded  Edna,  instantly. 

"  We  would,  of  course,"  answered  Cricket, 
superbly.  "  I  'd  love  to  do  it." 

"  Write  stories,  and  poems,  and  everything," 
urged  Edna,  aghast. 

"  Of  course,"  repeated  Cricket,  undauntedly. 
"  It 's  as  easy  as  rolling  off  a  log.  That  is  n't 
slang,  Eunice,  and  you  needn't  look  at  me. 
Rolling  off  a  log  is  really  very  easy  indeed." 
For  Eunice,  though  her  own  language  was  not 
always  above  reproach,  was  very  apt  to  play 
censor  to  her  younger  sister.  "  We  'd  just  make 
them  up  ourselves." 

"Make    them    up!"      Unimaginative    Edna 


THE   ECHO    CLUB.  149 

opened  her  mouth  and  eyes  wider.  "  I  could  n't, 
to  save  my  life ! " 

"  Oh,  you  could.  I  've  made  up  billions  of 
stories,"  answered  Cricket,  hugging  her  knees, 
and  talking  earnestly. 

"  But  how  ?  "  persisted  Edna.  "  Oh,  I  could  n't ! 
I  would  n't  try!" 

"  I  don't  know  exactly  how"  returned  Cricket, 
considering.  "Just  make  them  up,  that's  all. 
Things  come  into  your  head  all  by  themselves, 
somehow." 

"It  would  be  fun,  Cricket,"  put  in  Eunice, 
who  had  been  thinking  over  the  project.  "  We 
could  print  the  paper  all  out  on  foolscap." 

"  Would  we  each  write  our  own  story  out  ? " 

"  We  could  if  we  wanted  to.  I  thought  we 
might  take  turns  being  editor,  and  printing 
everything  out  like  a  real  paper.  We  might 
have  one  every  week,  and  get  subscribers,"  added 
Cricket,  ambitiously. 

"  Subscribers !  "  groaned  Edna,  "  and  print  a 
copy  out  for  each  one  ?  Not  if  I  know  myself. 
It 's  too  warm  weather." 

"  Well,  then,  we  might  hand  the  one  around 
to  the  subscribers,  and  each  one  could  pass  it  to 
the  next,  like  a  Magazine  Club,"  said  Edna. 


150  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

"  No,"  said  Eunice.  "  Don't  let  us  have  sub- 
scribers, or  anything  like  that.  We  '11  just  do  it 
for  fun.  We  '11  write  one  number  out  for  our- 
selves. I  do  think  it  will  be  fun.  Shall  we  let 
the  boys  know  ?  " 

"No,"  said  Edna,  instantly.  "They  would 
tease  and  spoil  things,  just  as  they  always 
do." 

"  They  don't  tease  much,"  said  Cricket,  defen- 
sively. "  They  're  a  great  deal  nicer  than  they 
were  last  summer,  I  think,  anyway.  They  did 
tease,  last  summer,  dreadfully,  and  they  never 
played  with  Eunice  and  me,  but  were  always 
with  Donald."  For  the  summer  before,  Will 
and  Archie  had  spent  two  months  at  Kayuna, 
as  grandma  had  been  ill,  and  was  not  able  to 
have  them  at  Marbury,  as  usual. 

"  This  summer  I  think  they  're  awfully  nice. 
At  least  Will  always  is,  and  Archie  is,  some- 
times. They  let  me  be  around  with  them  all  the 
time." 

"  But  I  think  we  'd  better  not  let  them  into 
it,"  said  Eunice,  judicially.  Eunice  generally 
settled  all  questions.  "  They  would  not  stick  to 
it,  and  they  would  want  us  to  do  it  some  other  way 
from  what  we  wanted,"  —  speaking  from  long 


THE    ECHO,  CLUB.  151 

experience  with  boys,  —  "  and  they  would  want 
to  have  it  their  own  way.  Now  what  shall  we 
call  ourselves  ?  " 

"  We  ought  to  be  the  <  Echo  Club,'  "  suggested 
Edna,  who  often  had  practical  ideas.  "  We  copy 
it  from  « Little  Women.'  " 

"  Splendid ! "  cried  Cricket,  clapping  her  hands. 
"  That 's  just  the  name,  Edna.  How  clever  of 
you!  We'll  be  the  Echo  Club,  and  the  paper 
shall  be  the  '  Echo,'  and  we  '11  have  badges  with 
'  E.  C.'  on  them,  and  we  '11  choose  a  certain  colour 
ribbon  to  wear  them  on,  always,  and  we  '11  have 
meetings,  and  oh,  we  '11  have  some  by  -  laws ! " 
her  imagination  instantly  running  away  with 
her.  "  I  always  wanted  to  have  a  club,  and  have 
by-laws,  and  rules,  all  written  out.  Do  let 's  be- 
gin, right  away ! " 

"  We  can't  very  well  begin  a  paper,  till  we 
have  some  stories  written  to  print  in  it,"  said 
Eunice,  laughing.  "  We  '11  have  to  get  some 
ideas,  first." 

"You  don't  want  ideas,"  answered  Cricket, 
scornfully.  "  We  want  to  write  some  stories  and 
things." 

"  I  never  can !  "  sighed  Edna,  despairingly. 

"  But  you  can  try,"  insisted  Cricket.    "  It 's  so 


152  CKICKET   AT   THE    SEASHOKE. 

easy."  And  at  last,  Edna,  with  a  groan,  prom- 
ised she  would  at  least  try. 

For  the  next  few  days,  the  three  girls  were 
never  seen  without  the  accompaniment  of  blank 
books  and  pencils.  The  blank  books  were  Crick- 
et's idea.  She  said  that  they  could  carry  around 
blank  books  with  them,  and  write  whenever  they 
thought  of  anything  to  say.  So  they  tied  pen- 
cils around  their  necks,  by  long  ribbons,  and 
scribbled  industriously  in  corners.  Edna  groaned, 
and  protested,  and  chewed  up  her  pencil,  but 
Cricket  was  inexorable,  and  gave  her  no  peace, 
till  she  made  a  beginning. 

Suddenly  Cricket  discovered  that  they  were 
not  properly  organized  yet. 

"  Let 's  have  a  meeting  at  two  o'clock  this 
afternoon,  and  choose  a  president,  and  secretary, 
and  treasurer,  and  an  editor,  to  print  the  paper 
when  it  is  done.  We  must  make  up  our  rules 
and  by-laws,  too.  Oh,  we  must  have  a  regular 
business  meeting,"  with  an  air  of  much  impor- 
tance. 

"  Let 's  have  it  now,  for  we  're  all  here,"  pro- 
posed Edna. 

"  No,  indeed,  that  would  not  do  at  all,"  said 
Cricket,  decidedly,  quite  disgusted  with  this  sug- 


THE    ECHO    CLUB.  153 

gestion.  "  We  must  call  the  meeting  first,  just 
as  grown-up  people  do."  For  Cricket,  with  all 
her  harum-scarum  ways,  had  a  strong  liking  for 
organization. 

"  You  're  a  fuss,"  said  Edna,  laughing,  but 
yielding  the  point. 

So  at  two  o'clock,  the  three  girls  duly  and 
solemnly  convened  behind  the  rocks,  where  they 
were  completely  screened  from  observation,  both 
from  the  house,  and  from  any  one  passing  along 
the  beach.  All  felt  the  importance  of  the  occa- 
sion, and  had  preternaturally  grave  faces. 

"  What  do  we  do  first  ? "  asked  Edna,  uncer- 
tainly. 

"  I  know,"  said  Cricket,  quickly.  "  We  nom- 
inate some  one  for  president,  and  somebody  sec- 
onds the  motive.  Papa  has  often  told  us  about  it, 
and  once  I  went  with  mamma  to  a  club  of  hers. 
I  '11  nominate  Eunice  for  president,  and  you  must 
second  the  motive,  Edna,  and  then  we  '11  vote." 

"  There  '11  be  nobody  to  vote,  but  me,  then," 
objected  Eunice.  "  Shall  I  vote  for  myself  ? " 

"  Might  as  well.  You  '11  have  to  be  president 
anyway,  because  you're  the  oldest,  and  it's 
more  appropriate.  Or  let 's  do  this :  You  say, 
*  All  in  favour  say,  aye.  Contrary-minded,  no,' 


154  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

and  then  we  '11  all  vote.  That 's  the  way  they 
did  in  mamma's  meeting,  only,  of  course,  there 
were  more  to  vote.  Now,  I  nominate  Eunice 
Ward  as  president  of  the  Echo  Club." 

"  I  second  the  motive,"  said  Edna,  promptly, 
trying  not  to  laugh. 

"  All  in  favour  of  my  being  president,  say  aye," 
said  Eunice,  in  her  turn. 

A  very  vigorous  aye  from  the  two  others 
followed. 

"  Contrary-minded,  say  no." 

There  being  nobody  to  say  no,  it  was  consid- 
ered a  unanimous  election,  and  Cricket  so  de- 
clared it,  with  a  slight  variation. 

"  Eunice  is  a  unaminous  president,"  she  an- 
nounced. 

"  What  is  a  unaminous  president,"  asked 
Edna. 

"  I  don't  know.  It 's  something  they  always 
say.  Now  we  must  choose  a  secretary  and 
treasurer." 

"  What  do  they  do  ? " 

"Why,  the  secretary  writes  things,"  said 
Cricket,  vaguely. 

"All  the  stories?"  said  Edna,  brightening. 
"  I  nominate  Cricket  for  secretary." 


THE    ECHO    CLUB.  155 

"  Of  course  not.  We  each  write  our  own 
stories.  I  mean  letters  and  things.  Don't  you 
know,  Eunice,  that  Marjorie  was  secretary  to  her 
club  last  winter,  and  what  a  lot  of  writing  she 
had  to  do?" 

«  Who  to  ? "  persisted  Edna.  «  What  do  they 
have  to  write  letters  for  ?  We  Ve  nobody  to 
write  letters  to  but  Aunt  Margaret  and  the 
rest." 

"Not  to  them,  of  course"  returned  Cricket, 
somewhat  impatiently,  as  she  did  not  at  all  know 
the  duties  of  a  secretary.  "  And  the  treasurer 
takes  care  of  the  money,  of  course,"  she  went  on, 
quickly  shifting  the  subject  to  something  she  was 
sure  of. 

"  How  are  we  going  to  get  any  money,  will  you 
kindly  tell  me  ?  "  pursued  Edna. 

"  Keeping  a  peanut  stand,"  suggested  Eunice, 
slyly- 

"  No,  don't  let 's,"  answered  Cricket,  seriously. 
"  It  is  n't  really  much  fun,  and  you  don't  make 
very  much,  anyway.  First,  let 's  take  up  a  col- 
lection to  buy  the  paper  with,  for  we  've  got  to 
have  that.  And,  well,  if  we  should  have  any 
money  in  any  way,  the  treasurer  would  be  all 
ready  to  take  care  of  it.  Don't  you  see  ?  " 


156  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

"  Ye-es.  I  nominate  Cricket  for  secretary  and 
treasurer,  then  — 

"  I  '11  second  the  motive  —  Cricket,  that 
does  n't  sound  right." 

"It  is,"  said  Cricket,  positively.  "When  I 
went  to  that  meeting  with  mamma,  they  kept 
saying  that  —  "I '11  second  the  motive." 

"  All  right,  then,  I  '11  second  the  motive,  but 
then  Edna  will  have  to  be  the  editor." 

"  No,  no,  cried  Edna,  looking  alarmed.  "  I  '11 
nominate  myself  for  secretary  and  treasurer,  and 
we  '11  have  Cricket  for  editor.  There  won't  be 
any  letters  to  write,  and  I  'm  sure  there  won't  be 
much  money  to  take  care  of." 

"  It  will  be  lots  of  work  to  be  editor,"  medi- 
tated Eunice.  "  Would  n't  this  be  better,  girls  ? 
Let  each  be  editor  in  turn." 

"  Yes,  that  will  be  best,"  said  Cricket.  "  I  'd 
just  as  lief  be  first  editor,  though,  if  Edna 
does  n't  want  to." 

"And  I'd  lievser  you  would,"  said  Edna. 
"  Shall  I  be  secretary  and  treasurer,  then  ?  All  in 
favour  say  aye;"  and  Eunice  and  Cricket  said 
aye,  loudly.  x 

"  What  do  we  do  now  the  officers  are  all 
chosen?"  asked  Edna. 


THE   ECHO    CLUB.  157 

"  Make  rules  and  by-laws,"  answered  Cricket, 
promptly. 

"  What  are  by-laws  ?  "  asked  Edna,  again. 

"  Why,  they  are  —  by-laws.  I  don't  know  just 
exactly  what  they  are,"  broke  off  Cricket,  hon- 
estly. "  But  I  think  they  sound  very  interesting 
and  grown-up-y.  Do  you  know  what  they  are, 
Eunice  ?  " 

"  N — o,  not  exactly.  Do  you  suppose  they 
are  the  laws  about  buying  things  ?  or  who  must 
buy  them,  or  anything  like  that  ?  " 

"  Why,  of  course !  "  exclaimed  Cricket,  with 
an  air  of  conviction.  "  You  see  then,  we  '11  have 
to  have  by-laws  to  see  about  buying  the  paper, 
won't  we  ?  " 

"  And  what  sort  of  rules  do  we  have  ?  "  went 
on  Edna,  in  the  pursuit  of  information. 

"  Oh,  everything  !  Let 's  begin  to  make  them 
now.  You  write  them  down,  Edna,  for  your 
handwriting  is  so  nice  and  neat.  Take  the  last 
leaf  of  your  blank  book. 

Edna  obediently  opened  her  book,  and  took  up 
her  pencil. 

"  Write  '  Rules  for  the  Echo  Club '  at  the  top 
of  the  page,"  directed  Cricket.  "  Now,  Rule 
One,"  when  this  was  down  in  Edna's  careful 
handwriting. 


158  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

4<  How  would  this  do  for  rule  one  ?  '  We 
make  ourselves  into  a  club  called  the  Echo 
Club.' " 

"  That 's  good.     Now  for  rule  two. 

" '  Every  two  weeks  we  will  print  a  paper  called 
the  Echo]  "  said  Cricket.  "  Edna,  you  make  up 
rule  three." 

" '  The  secretary  shall  be  excused  from  writ- 
ing stories,' "  laughed  Edna. 

"You  lazy,  lazy  thing.  That  sha'  n't  be  a  rule 
at  all,"  answered  Eunice,  laughing  also. 

"  How  would  this  do,  then,  for  rule  three  ? 
'  The  Echo  Club  will  not  do  anything  in  very  hot 
weather,  but  sit  under  the  trees  and  embroider 
and  read,  and  none  of  the  members  shall  be 
allowed  to  make  the  others  go  on  long  walks 
and  things  when  it 's  so  roasting  hot  that  nobody 
wants  to  stir.'  That's  a  beautiful  rule,"  said 
Edna,  mischievously.  Whereupon  Cricket  flew 
at  her,  and  rolled  her  over  on  the  sand,  till  she 
cried  for  mercy. 

"  Will  the  meeting  please  come  to  order,"  an- 
nounced the  president.  "  Let 's  have  the  third 
rule  about  our  ribbons.  We  '11  choose  one  colour. 
I  vote  for  pale-green." 

"  Blue,"  said  Edna,  and  "  Pink,"  said  Cricket, 


THE    ECHO    CLUB.  159 

in  one  breath.  The  children  looked  at  each 
other  and  laughed. 

"  I  'd  just  as  soon  have  pale-green,"  said  Edna, 
amiably. 

"  So  would  I,"  agreed  Cricket.  "  Eunice  is  pres- 
ident, so  let 's  vote  for  pale-green.  How  would 
this  do  ?  '  The  club  will  have  pale-green  ribbon 
to  tie  its  pencils  round  its  necks." 

"  '  Round  its  necks '  sounds  funny,"  com- 
mented Edna,  writing. 

"  Round  its  neck,  then.  But  that  sounds  as  if 
we  had  only  one  neck." 

"  Say,  the  club  will  have  pale  -  green  ribbon  to 
tie  their  pencils  round  their  necks,"  amended 
Eunice. 

"  That  will  do.  Now  rule  four,"  said  Edna, 
waiting,  with  pencil  raised. 

"  Should  n't  we  have  a  by-law  now  ? "  asked 
Cricket.  "  For  instance,  By-law  one  :  '  The  club 
will  buy  foolscap  paper  to  print  on,  and  will 
take  up  a  surscription  of  five  cents  to  buy  it 
with.'" 

"  /Subscription,"  corrected  Eunice.  "  I  should 
think  that  would  do." 

So  Edna  wrote,  neatly : 

"  Buy-law  I.     The  club  will   take  up  a  sub- 


160  CEICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

scription  of  five  cents  each,  and  buy  foolscap 
paper,  as  much  as  it  needs." 

"That's  good.  Do  we  need  any  more  by- 
laws ?  What  else  have  we  to  buy  ?  " 

"  Ain't  those  enough  rules  ? "  asked  Eunice. 
"I  can't  seem  to  think  of  any  more  rules  we 
want  to  make." 

"When  will  we  have  the  paper?"  asked 
Edna. 

"  Depends  on  when  you  send  in  your  stories. 
This  is  Wednesday.  Have  you  your  stories 
nearly  done,  girls  ?  I  guess  it  will  take  some 
time  to  print  them  all  out  carefully." 

"  I  can  finish  mine  to-morrow,"  said  Eunice. 

"  Mine 's  a  horrid  little  thing,  but  I  was  n't 
born  bright,"  sighed  Edna.  "  I  '11  get  it  done  by 
Friday.  I  can't  think  up  more  than  five  lines  a 
day." 

"  Mine 's  all  done,"  said  Cricket.  "  But,  oh, 
girls  !  a  newspaper  ought  to  have  ever  so  many 
more  things  than  stories  in  it.  We  ought  to 
have  jokes,  and  advertisements,  and  deaths,  and 
marriages,  and  all  that.  And  puzzles,  too." 

"  Oh-h !  "  groaned  Edna.  "  Then  you  '11  have 
to  make  them  up,  that 's  all.  I  think  it 's  the 
editor's  business,  anyway." 


THE    ECHO    CLUB.  161 

«  We  '11  each  do  a  few.  That  won't  be  hard," 
suggested  Eunice. 

"  Suppose  nobody  dies,  or  gets  married,  that 
we  know  of  ? "  asked  literal  Edna. 

"  Make  them  up,  child,"  answered  Cricket, 
with  a  funny  air  of  superiority.  "  In  a  paper 
you  can  make  up  anything.  It  does  n't  have  to 
be  true.  Don't  you  know  how  often  papa  says 
'  that 's  only  a  newspaper  story  ? ' ' 

"  Making  them  up  is  just  the  trouble,"  per- 
sisted Edna.  "If  anybody  really  died,  or  mar- 
ried, or  anything,  it  would  be  easy  enough  to 
write  of  it,  of  course.  How  silly  people  are  who 
make  real  newspapers.  Why  do  they  ever  make 
up  anything,  when  real  things  are  happening  all 
the  time  ?  " 

"  It 's  more  fun  to  make  things  up,"  answered 
Cricket,  from  the  depths  of  her  experience. 
"  But  we  can  write  about  that  old  red  hen,  and 
about  poor  little  Wallops  " — referring  to  a  little 
black  cat,  lately  deceased.  "  Then  each  of  you 
must  send  me  in  some  things  besides  your  sto- 
ries, and  I  '11  make  some  up  myself.  Let 's  ap- 
point next  Tuesday  for  a  meeting,  if  I  can  get 
the  paper  done.  If  I  don't,  we  '11  have  it  as  soon 
as  I  can  get  it  ready." 


162  CKICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

"  Shall  that  be  a  rule  ? "  laughed  Eunice. 

"  No,  miss.  But  suppose  we  make  this  a  rule 
—  how  many  rules  have  we  now  ?  " 

"  Three,"  said  Edna,  referring  to  the  constitu- 
tion. 

"  Then  rule  four :  *  The  paper  shall  be  read 
on  Wednesday  afternoons,  at  three  o'clock,  in 
Kocky  Nook.'  Why,  girls!  I  made  up  that 
name  just  then ! "  interrupting  herself,  in  her 
surprise. 

"  It 's  a  splendid  name,"  the  girls  said. 

"  We  might  call  it  '  Exiles'  Bower/  "  laughed 
Edna,  teasingly,  for  the  boys  had  given  that 
name  to  Bear  Island  since  the  girls'  imprison- 
ment there. 

"  If  you  like,"  said  Cricket,  the  unteasable, 
serenely. 

"  Don't  you  think  that  the  next  rule  ought  to 
be  that  we  won't  tell  the  boys  ? "  asked  Edna. 
"  I  just  know  they  will  tease  us  out  of  our 
senses." 

So  rule  five  was  duly  registered,  to  the  effect 
that  strict  secrecy  was  to  be  observed,  and  that 
they  would  tell  no  one  but  grandma  and  Auntie 
Jean. 

"  There   must    be   another    by-law,"    put   in 


THE    ECHO    CLUB.  163 

Cricket,  reflectively,  here,  "for  we  must  have 
some  badges,  like  Marjorie's  society." 

"  What  are  they  ?  "  asked  Edna. 

"Marjorie  took  a  dime  and  had  the  jeweller 
rub  it  off  smooth,  and  put  some  letters  on  it. 
We  could  have  E.  C.  put  on  ours.  Then  he  put 
a  little  pin  on  it,  and  she  wears  it  all  the  time. 
Don't  you  suppose  auntie  would  see  about  them 
for  us  ?  " 

"  I  'm  sure  she  would.  She  would  lend  us  the 
money,  I  guess,  and  let  us  make  it  up  from  our 
allowances." 

So  the  next  regulation  read  : 

"  Buy-law  two.  We  will  have  badges,  made 
of  dimes,  with  E.  C.  on  them,  and  will  ask 
mamma  to  let  us  have  the  money  for  them." 

"Doesn't  that  look  club -by?"  exclaimed 
Cricket,  enthusiastically,  surveying  the  neatly 
written  page,  with  its  rules  and  "  buy-laws." 

"  You  ought  to  be  the  first  editor,  Edna,  for 
you  do  write  foawtifully." 

"  You  write  my  stories,  and  I  '11  print  the  paper, 
any  time,"  said  Edna,  brightening. 

"  No,  I  won't.  I  won't  let  you  wiggle  out  of 
writing  your  stories,  Edna,  if  I  print  all  the  pa- 
pers. Come,  girls,  I  'm  nearly  dead  with  sitting 


164  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

still  so  long,"  added  Cricket,  springing  up. 
"Let's  go  to  ride." 

"  No,  I  thank  you.  This  is  all  I  want  to  do, 
this  hot  day,"  answered  Edna,  stretching  herself 
out  on  the  sand,  with  her  head  in  Eunice's  lap. 

"  Oh,  lazybones  !  I  'm  going  to  find  old  Billy, 
and  take  him  to  ride.  Good-by ! " 


CHAPTER    XL 
"THE  ECHO." 

"  GIRLS,  we  forgot  one  very  important  thing," 
said  Cricket,  suddenly  pausing  in  her  work  of 
copying  out  carefully,  in  print,  on  legal  cap,  the 
much-interlined  and  very  untidy  looking  manu- 
scripts that  had  been  handed  in.  The  three 
girls  were  sittingly  cosily  in  one  end  of  the 
broad  piazza,  Edna  lying  back  in  a  bamboo 
steamer  chair,  reading,  Eunice  in  the  hammock, 
while  Cricket,  at  the  table,  with  both  feet 
curled  up  on  the  round  of  her  chair,  worked 
industriously. 

"  What  did  we  forget  ?  "  asked  Edna,  languidly. 

"  We  forgot  to  choose  names  for  ourselves,  as 
Jo  and  the  rest  did.  I  don't  want  to  sign  just 
plain  Edna  Somers  to  your  piece." 

"  I  'm  sure  I  don't  want  you  to,"  said  Edna, 
with  sudden  energy.  "  I  just  hate  my  name.  I 
wish  mamma  hadn't  named  me  till  I  could 
choose  for  myself." 


166  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

"  What  a  good  idea !  "  said  Eunice,  admiringly. 
"  1  never  thought  of  that.  What  name  would 
you  choose  ?  " 

"Hildegarde  Genevieve,"  answered  Edna, 
promptly.  "  Those  are  my  favourite  names.  And 
I  wish  my  last  name  was  Montague." 

"  Hildegarde  Genevieve  Montague  !  That 's  a 
beautiful  name  !  "  exclaimed  Cricket.  "  Have 
that  for  your  club  name,  Edna.  Now  you 
choose,  Eunice." 

"  Let  me  see  !  "  considered  Eunice.  "  I  think 
Esmeralda  is  just  splendid,  and  I  love  Muriel. 
Esmeralda  Muriel  would  do." 

"  And  have  Le  Grand  for  your  last  name," 
begged  Cricket.  "  I  think  anything  with  a  Le 
in  it  is  so  —  so  stately.  But  Muriel  is  one  of 
my  favourite  names,  too,  Eunice.  What  shall 
I  choose  ?  Do  you  like  Seretta  ?  " 

"  That  is  n't  a  real  name,  is  it,  asked  Edna. 

"  I  made  it  up  the  other  night,  and  I  think 
it 's  sweet.  I  '11  be  Seretta  Carlillian.  I  made 
that  up,  too.  So  that's  settled,"  said  Cricket, 
resuming  her  work,  and  signing,  "  Hildegarde 
Genevieve  Montague, "  very  carefully. 

The  rest  of  the  family  had,  of  course,  noticed 
the  sudden  literary  bent  of  these  young  women, 


"THE  ECHO."  167 

and  were  all  curiosity  to  know  the  reason  of  it. 
The  boys  gave  them  no  peace,  and  though  the 
girls  stuck  to  their  secret  valiantly,  Will  and 
Archie  managed  to  worm  it  from  them  at  last. 
To  the  relief  of  the  girls,  however,  they  did  not 
tease,  but,  on  the  contrary,  quite  approved,  and 
even  offered  to  contribute,  an  offer  which  the 
small  editor  would  not  accept  unconditionally. 
"  You  may  write  things,"  she  said,  rather  du- 
biously, "  and  if  I  like  them  I  '11  print  them. 
» 

But  I'm  not  going  to  put  in  any  nonsense.  This 
is  a  really-truly  paper,  and  the  girls  have  written 
beautiful  stories." 

She  was  sole  judge  of  the  production,  however, 
for  the  other  girls  had  agreed  that  it  would  be 
more  fun  if  nobody  but  the  editor  knew  the  con- 
tents of  the  paper  till  it  was  read.  It  proved  to 
be  a  great  deal  of  work  to  copy  all  the  paper 
neatly  in  printing  letters,  but  Cricket  stuck  to  it 
i  faithfully.  Auntie  advised  that  she  should 
work  regularly,  one  hour  in  the  morning,  and 
one  hour  in  the  afternoon,  till  she  got  it  done, 
and  Cricket,  who,  at  first,  felt  obliged  to  work 
at  it  all  the  morning,  very  willingly  followed 
her  suggestion.  Auntie  had  also  undertaken  to 
advance  the  money  for  the  badges,  which  a 


168  CKICKET    AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

little  local  watchmaker  had  promised  to  have 
done  before  Wednesday.  He  kept  his  promise, 
and  three  prouder  little  girls  never  walked  than 
these  three,  when  they  fastened  on  these  round, 
shining  pins,  with  "  E.  C."  embroidered  on  them, 
as  Cricket  said. 

Would  my  little  readers  like  a  glimpse  of  this 
"  really  -  truly  "  paper  of  "  really  -  truly  "  little 
girls  ? 

Well,  then,  the  club  meeting  was  held,  by 
common  consent,  on  the  piazza,  instead  of  in 
"  Rocky  Nook,"  for  the  boys  insisted  on  being 
present,  and  Auntie  Jean  hinted  that  an  invi- 
tation to  herself  and  grandma  would  be  much 
appreciated. 

"  You  must  n't  anybody  laugh,"  said  Eunice, 
finally,  in  some  trepidation. 

"  We  '11  be  as  sober  as  —  crocodiles,"  promised 
Will,  "  and  I  don't  know  anything  more  serious 
than  a  crocodile." 

So,  when  the  audience  was  duly  assembled  on 
the  piazza,  the  "  Echo  Club  "  marched  out  of  the 
house,  headed  by  President  Eunice,  the  secretary 
and  treasurer  following,  while  the  editor,  all  in  a 
flutter,  carrying  the  precious  paper  laid  flat  in 
an  atlas,  brought  up  the  rear.  The  president 


"THE  ECHO."  169 

sat  down,  gravely,  in  a  big  chair  reserved  for 
her,  while  the  secretary  took  a  seat  by  her 
side,  though  she  cast  a  longing  look  at  the  ham- 
mock, which  was  regarded  as  undignified.  The 
editor,  vainly  trying  to  control  her  smiles  and 
restrain  her  dimples,  stood  behind  the  table,  and 
began. 

"  I  copied  the  top  part  of  it  from  a  real  news- 
paper, auntie,"  she  said,  opening  the  sheet. 
"  Now,  boys,  remember,  if  you  laugh  the  least 
bit,  I  '11  stop.  And,  oh,  auntie,  I  forgot  to  say 
that  the  boys  wrote  some  of  the  atoms." 

"  Atoms  ? "  repeated  Auntie  Jean,  puzzled. 

"  Atoms !  Miss  Scricket,  oh,  ho ! "  called 
Archie ;  then,  recollecting  himself  just  in  time, 
he  clapped  his  hands  over  his  mouth. 

"  That 's  what  you  said  the'y  were,  I  thought," 
said  Cricket,  anxiously.  "  Don  't  you  know, 
auntie,  those  little  things  that  come  between  the 
stories,  and  all  that  ?  General  atoms.  I  have 
written  it  down." 

"  Items,  dear,"  said  auntie,  soberly. 

"  Items  —  atoms,"  repeated  Cricket,  thought- 
fully, comparing  the  sounds.  "  Yes,  of  course. 
How  silly  of  me.  I'll  change  it  right  away. 
Well,  the  boys  wrote  most  of  them,  anyway. 


170  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

Now,  I'm  all  ready,"  and  Cricket  cleared  her 
throat,  and  began. 


SEKELLA  CAKLILLIAX,  Editor. 


No.  1.  Marbury,  Wednesday,  July  15th,  18  —  .  VOL.  I. 

DELL'S  COMPOSITION. 

"  Oh,  dear  !  '.'  sighed  Dell  Ripley,  "  next  Friday  is 
Composition  Day,  and  I  've  got  to  write  a  composition. 
What  subject  shall  I  take,  mamma  ?  " 

"  Are  there  not  any  subjects  in  your  school  composi- 
tion-book ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Ripley,  a  pleasant  looking  lady 
of  apparently  thirty-five. 

"  Yes  'm,  but  not  any  I  want.  Oh,  it  seems  to  me 
that  I  saw  a  book  up-stairs  in  the  garret  with  some- 
thing about  compositions  in  it,"  and,  shaking  back  her 
floating  curls,  the  little  girl  bounded  from  the  room. 
She  ran  up  the  garret  stairs,  and  then  began  to  look  for 
the  book.  At  last  she  found  it,  and  eagerly  opened  it, 
and,  as  she  opened  it,  a  paper  fluttered  to  the  floor. 

She  picked  it  up,  and  saw  the  name  "  Amy  Willard  " 
on  it.  "  Why,"  she  thought,  "  it  's  something  of  Aunt 
Amy's,"  and  she  read  it.  It  was  a  composition. 

"  Joan  of  Arc,"  cried  Dell,  "  splendid  subject,  and 
splendid  composition.  I  wish  I  could  write  one  as 
nice." 

"  Why  not  take  this  one  ?  "  asked  the  tempter.  Then 
there  was  a  very  long  struggle  in  Dell's  heart,  but  the 
tempter  conquered,  and  Dell  carried  the  composition 
down  to  her  own  room  to  copy  it.  When  she  had 
finished  it,  she  read  it  over,  trying  to  think  that  it 


"THE  ECHO."  171 

sounded  just  like  any  of  her  own,  and  that  no  one 
would  ever  know  it. 

"  It  sounds  just  like  mine,"  she  said,  trying  to  get  rid 
of  that  uneasy  feeling.  "  I  guess  I  '11  just  change  this 
sentence  and  that  one." 

"  Have  you  written  your  composition,  dear  ?  "  asked 
Mrs.  Ripley,  pleasantly,  as  Dell  came  slowly  down- 
stairs, and  out  on  the  piazza. 

"  Yes  'm,"  answered  Dell,  very  low. 

"  You  look  tired,  dear." 

"  I  am." 

"  What  shall  I  do  if  I  am  found  out?"  thought  Dell. 

When  she  went  to  bed  that  night  she  was  very  un- 
happy. Her  conscience  troubled  her  very  much.  She 
wished  she  had  never  found  the  composition,  and 
almost  made  up  her  mind  to  confess,  but,  alas,  only 
almost. 

She  turned  and  tossed  till  nearly  ten  o'clock,  and 
then  fell  asleep,  and  dreamed  that,  just  as  she  was  read- 
ing the  composition  before  the  school,  her  Aunt  Amy 
appeared,  and  claimed  it  as  her  own,  thus  showing  her 
niece's  wickedness.  She  awoke  with  a  scream  that 
brought  her  mother  to  her  bedside.  Dell's  first  thought 
was  to  tell  her  mother  all,  and,  without  waiting  a 
moment,  she  confessed  her  sin. 

After  that,  Dell's  compositions  were  her  own. 

ESMERALDA    MURIEL    Lfi    GRAND. 


POLLY'S  NECKLACE. 

"Oh,  mamma,"  exclaimed  little  Polly  More.  "To- 
morrow is  my  birthday,  and  what  are  you  going  to  give 
me  for  a  present?" 


172  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

"  What  do  you  want?"  asked  Mrs.  More. 

"  I  should  like  a  necklace  of  some  sort.  Oh,  papa," 
bounding  toward  her  father,  "  are  you  going  to  give  me 
something?" 

"  What  would  you  like  me  to  give  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  anything,"  said  Polly. 

So  the  next  morning,  Polly  found  by  her  bedside, 
when  she  woke  up,  a  pretty  little  coral  necklace,  and  a 
red  purse  with  seventy-five  cents  in  it,  and  a  penknife. 

Three  or  four  weeks  after,  Polly  went  to  visit  her 
uncle,  who  lived  in  the  country.  He  was  a  farmer,  and 
it  was  haying  time,  and  he  was  getting  in  the  new  hay, 
and  Polly  liked  to  play  in  the  hay  with  her  cousin  May. 
One  day,  as  they  were  playing  there,  her  coral  necklace 
came  unclasped  and  fell  into  the  hay,  She  hunted  a 
long  time,  but  could  not  find  it. 

Polly  went  home  the  next  week  sorrowing,  but  the 
next  spring,  when  the  cows  had  eaten  up  all  the  hay, 
the  news  came  that  May  had  found  the  necklace,  and 
Polly  was  happy  again. 

HlLDEGARDE     GENEVIEVE     MONTAGUE. 


POETRY. 

TO    MY   MOTHEK. 

(A  Lament.) 

Oh,  mother  dear,  why  hast  thou  gone, 
And  left  thy  Cricket  all  alone  ? 
The  tears  flow  often  from  my  eye, 
And  oft,  indeed,  I  almost  cry. 

Should  danger  chance  to  come  to  thee, 
While  thon  are  sailing  on  the  sea, 
With  sorrow  would  our  hearts  be  torn, 
And  we  would  be  here  all  forlorn. 


"THE    ECHQ."  173 

Perhaps  thou  may  fall  from  the  deck, 
Before  papa  thy  fall  could  check, 
Perhaps  they  could  not  rescue  thee, 
And  then,  alas !  what  grief  to  me. 

Of  course  papa  might  pull  thee  out, 
Or  else  some  burly  sailor,  stout. 
Oh,  dear  mamma  !  I  pray  thee,  strive 
To  keep  thyself,  for  us  alive  ! 

And  dear  papa,  we  miss  him,  too, 
Almost  as  much  as  we  do  you. 
We  long  to  see  his  dear  old  face, 
And  fold  him  in  our  close  embrace. 

AndMarjorie  and  Donald,  too, 
We  miss  you  all,  but  mostly  you. 
Oh,  hurry  and  grow  very  strong, 
That  we  may  have  you  back  ere  long. 

SERETTA  CAKLILLIAJT. 


Miss  Zaidee  and  Miss  Helen  Ward  have  decided  that 
they  will  patronize  the  ocean  hereafter  for  their  daily 
bath,  rather  than  the  tanks  in  the  cheese  factory. 


A    SAD    ACCIDENT. 

The  other  day  our  editor,  and  one  of  the  valuable 
contributors  to  this  paper,  were  seated  on  two  posts, 
playing  the  manly  game  of  bean -bag.  The  bag  was 
coming  to  the  editor,  but  somehow,  when  he  grabbed 
for  it,  it  fell  on  the  ground.  Our  editor  immediately 
sprang  after  it,  but,  in  doing  so,  his  dress  caught  on  the 
post,  and  he  hung  up  there.  He  was  rescued  by  Miss 
Le  G.  He  is  now  doing  well. 


174  CRICKET   AT   THE    SEASHORE. 

POOR    PATTY. 

Little  Patty  looked  very  poor  indeed.  She  sat  on  a 
rough  stone  that  was  used  as  a  door-step,  with  her  head 
resting  on  her  hand.  Her  beautiful  golden  curls  fell 
way  below  her  waist,  over  her  white  neck  and  shoulders, 
which  her  ragged  dress  did  not  hide. 

Patty  had  been  stolen  by  gypsies  three  years  before, 
when  she  was  seven  years  old.  She  was  very  pretty, 
and  because  of  that  the  gypsies  had  stolen  her  to  sell. 
One  night  she  ran  away  from  the  gypsies,  and  during 
the  day  she  wandered  on  till  she  came  to  a  large  town. 
When  it  was  night  again,  she  was  tired  and  hungry, 
and  she  sat  down  on  a  door -step  and  fell  fast  asleep, 
and  here  she  was  found  by  Mrs.  Bruce,  who  took  her 
home,  thinking  she  could  make  her  useful  in  running 
errands. 

So  Patty  was  sitting  on  the  door-step  when  a  rough 
voice  called  from  inside  the  house,  "Be  off  with  you, 
you  lazy  thing !  Did  n't  I  tell  you  an  hour  ago  to  be  off 
for  the  milk?  Be  off  with  you,  I  say." 

Poor  Patty  got  off  rather  slowly,  for  she  did  n't  feel 
well,  and  ran  down  the  street  and  did  n't  stop  till  she 
got  to  the  store.  But  coming  home  she  did  n't  run  so 
fast,  for  her  head  ached,  and  when  she  got  home  Nan 
Bruce  scolded  her.  In  a  few  minutes  Patty  went  up- 
stairs to  her  poor  garret,  where  she  slept,  and  threw 
herself  upon  the  bed,  and  cried  herself  to  sleep.  When 
she  woke  up  she  had  a  high  fever,  and  in  a  short  time 
she  was  delirious.  Xan  was  much  alarmed,  and  sent 
for  the  doctor,  who  said  she  had  scarlet  fever,  and  he 
got  a  good  nurse  for  her.  For  three  months  no  one 
expected  she  would  recover,  but  after  that  she  began  to 
get  well. 


"THE  ECHO."  175 

One  morning,  when  she  was  nearly  well,  she  said 
suddenly  to  the  doctor  "  Doctor,  it  seems  to  me  as  if  I 
had  seen  you  before." 

"  You  have,  I  guess,"  said  the  doctor,  laughing.  "  I 
have  been  here  every  day  for  three  months." 

"  I  don't  mean  that,"  said  Patty,  "  but  I  feel  as  if  I 
had  seen  you  before  those  people  took  me  off." 

"  How  old  were  you  when  they  took  you  off  ?  "  asked 
the  doctor,  who  knew  she  had  been  stolen. 

"  I  think  I  was  seven,  for  it  was  on  the  very  day  after 
my  birthday,  I  remember." 

"Why,  /  had  a  little  girl  that  was  stolen  the  very 
day  after  she  was  seven  years  old,"  said  the  doctor. 
"  She  was  carried  off  by  gypsies." 

"  Why,  the  gypsies  were  the  very  people  that  carried 
me  off,  too." 

"  Patty,  would  you  like  to  go  and  live  with  me  ? " 
asked  the  doctor. 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  would.  Perhaps  I  am  your  little  girl,  for 
I  am  not  hers." 

"  Perhaps  so.  I  will  see  if  I  can  find  out  about  it." 
The  doctor  asked  Nan  Bruce,  and  she  told  him  all  she 
knew.  He  then  made  arrangements  to  take  Patty 
home  with  him,  for  he  knew  now  she  was  his  own  little 
girl.  So  Patty  went  to  live  with  the  doctor,  and  she 
had  lovely  dresses  of  porcelain  to  wear,  and  a  servant  to 
stand  in  statu  quo  behind  her  chair  at  dinner. 

SERETTA  CAKLILLIAN. 


MARRIAGES. 

Hopvine  —  Woodbine.     On  the  21st,  Mr.  Hopvine,  to 
Miss  Woodbine,  both  of  Marbury.     No  cards. 


176  CKICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

DEATHS. 

On  the  first  of  June,  little  Robin,  only  child  of  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Redbreast,  aged  two  months,  four  days,  and 
three  hours. 

Little  Robin,  thou  hast  left  us, 
We  shall  hear  thy  chirp  no  more  ; 

Very  lonely  hast  thou  left  us, 
And  our  hearts  are  very  sore. 

On  the  7th  of  June,  two  little  kittens,  in  the  barn  of 
Mrs.  Maxwell.  We  grieve  greatly  at  recording  the 
deaths  of  these  loving  and  lovely  twins,  so  sad  and 
unexpected.  They  had  a  large  circle  of  admirers 
and  friends,  who  feel  greatly  overcome  that  these 
beautiful  young  twins  are  called  away. 

Also,  Wallops,  older  brother  of  the  above,  departed 
this  life  on  June  10th.  He  was  found  dead  on  the 
seashore. 

Poor  little  Wallops, 
Died  of  eating  scallops. 

(He  really  ate  crabs,  but  crabs  would  n't  rhyme.) 
We  '11  see  him  frisk  no  more, 
For  we  found  him  on  the  shore, 
All  stiff  and  cold,  expiring  in  his  prime. 


TOWN    TOPICS.  . 

Miss  Cricket  Ward  has  decided  to  sell  out  her  peanut 
stand  at  cost. 

Mr.  Will  and  Archie  Somers  have  cleaned  the  Gentle 
Jane,  and  they  are  now  prepared  to  take  out  parties  at 
reasonable  rates.  Come  early  and  often. 

Mr.  Kenneth  Ward  has  nearly  recovered  from  a  seri- 


"THE  ECHO."  177 

ous  wound  he  received  when  he  was  eloping  with  his 
aunt's  watch.  The  path  of  the  transgressor  is  hard. 
It  was  the  stones  in  this  case. 

Miss  Hilda  Mason,  of  East  Wellsboro',  is  expected 
soon  to  spend  a  week  with  her  friend,  the  editor. 


WIT   AND    HUMOUR. 

["None  of  the  wits  are  original,  auntie,"  put  in  Cricket,  here. 
"  The  boys  sent  some  of  them  in,  and  they  said  they  were,  but 
I  don't  believe  them,  and  I  copied  mine,  anyway."] 

How  to  get  along  in  the  world.     Walk. 

A  little  girl  visiting  the  country  for  the  first  time, 
saw  a  man  milking.  After  looking  a  few  minutes,  she 
asked,  "  Where  do  they  put  it  in  ?  " 

When  is  a  man  thinner  than  a  shingle  ?  When  he  's 
a-shaving. 

What  was  the  first  carriage  Washington  ever  rode 
in  ?  When  he  took  a  hack  at  the  little  cherry-tree. 

What  did  Lot  do  when  his  wife  became  a  pillar  of 
salt?  He  got  a  fresh  one. 

"  Mike,"  asked  a  man,  addressing  a  bow  -  legged 
friend,  "are  them  legs  of  yourn  natural  or  artificial?" 
"  Artificial,  me  lad.  I  went  up  in  a  balloon,  and  walked 
back." 


GENERAL    ITEMS. 

Letters  were  received  from  Dr.  Ward  and  family,  that 
they  are  enjoying  themselves  in  the  Swiss  mountains. 
Mamma  is  better.  She  says  they  have  such  funny  little 
boys  there. 


178  CRICKET    AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

Mr.  Billy  Ruggles  is  going  to  have  a  new  shiny  hat. 
Kenneth    sat    down    on    his    other  one,  and  it  got  all 
flattened  out,  and  it  looks  like  fury,  and  grandma  says 
he  can't  wear  it  any  more. 
Bridget  has  a  new  dishpan. 
Luke  says  he  has  forty-eight  chickens. 
Maggie  Sampson's  little   donkey  can't  go  nearly  as 
fast  as  Mopsie  and  Charcoal  Ward. 

Mr.  Simon  has  his  summer  stock  of  fresh  red  and 
white  peppermints  in.  He  won't  have  any  chocolates 
till  August,  because  he  bought  such  a  large  stock  in 
May. 

There  is  to  be  a  church  sociable  in  the  Methodist 
church.  I  wish  auntie  would  condescend  to  let  us  go, 
for  we  haven't  ever  been  to  a  Methodist  sociable.  I 
never  went  to  any  kind  of  a  sociable. 

Miss  Hildegarde  Genevieve  Montague  wishes  to  say 
that,  if  she  was  a  boy,  she  does  n't  think  it  would  be 
any  fun  to  cut  up  pieces  of  whalebones,  and  put  them 
under  the  sheet  in  his  sister's  bed. 

There  will  be  a  special  and  very  private  meeting  of 
the  E.  C.  in  some  very  secret  place,  to  decide  whether 
we  will  let  the  boys  be  honorary  members  or  not.  If 
they  are  elected  honorary  members,  we  will  turn  them 
out  any  time  that  they  don't  behave  themselves  very 
well  indeed. 


THE    END  —  FINIS. 


"THE  ECHO."  179 

The  tail-piece  was  Cricket's  ambitious  flight 
of  fancy.  She  drew  a  long  breath  and  sat  down, 
amid  vigorous  applause. 

"That's  very  creditable,  my  little  author- 
lings,"  said  auntie,  encouragingly.  "  Cricket, 
you  did  more  than  your  share,  I  think,  if  you 
copied  all  that,  and  wrote  a  story  and  a  poem 
beside." 

"  I  had  them  all  thought  before,  auntie.  I 
made  up  the  poetry  the  day  I  was  caught  on  the 
mud-flat.  I  love  to  think  out  stories." 

"  Oh-h  !  "  groaned  Edna.  "  How  any  one  can 
think  out  stories  just  for  fun,  I  don't  see.  I  'd 
almost  rather  fight  skeeters.  Mine  's  the  stupid- 
est story  that  ever  was,  but  I  don't  believe  I  slept 
a  wink  for  three  nights,  while  I  was  making  it 
up.  You  don't  catch  me  writing  any  stories, 
girls,  when  I  am  editor." 

"  I  am  afraid  you  were  n't  intended  for  an 
author,  my  dear,"  said  her  mother,  laughing. 

"  Somebody  must  read  the  stories,"  said  Edna, 
defensively. 


CHAPTER   XII. 

THE    HAIRS    OF    HIS    HEAD. 

THE  Maxwell  family  were  coming  home  from 
church  along  the  sandy,  sunny  road.  Eunice 
and  Edna,  arm  in  arm,  were  ahead,  laughing 
and  talking  over  some  profound  secret.  Will 
and  Archie  mimicked  them  behind,  while  grand- 
mamma and  Auntie  Jean,  under  a  generous  black 
sun-umbrella,  strolled  slowly  along  some  distance 
in  the  rear.  Cricket,  in  the  misery  of  a  dainty 
organdie,  which  she  must  keep  clean  for  another 
Sunday,  and  with  the  unhappy  consciousness  of 
her  Sunday  hat  of  wide,  white  Leghorn,  which, 
with  its  weight  of  pink  roses,  flopped  uncomfort- 
ably about  her  ears,  walked  along  by  herself,  in 
an  unusually  meditative  frame  of  mind.  She 
refused,  with  dignity,  the  boys'  proposal  to  walk 
with  them,  and  told  the  girls  it  was  too  hot  to 
go  three  abreast. 

Presently,  down  a  cross  street,  she  spied  a 
familiar  figure,  tall  and  bent,  with  a  head  of 
bristling  hair,  and  a  high  silk  hat,  —  it  was 
Billy,  and  she  instantly  ran  to  meet  him.  Billy 


THE    HAIRS    OF    HIS    HEAD.  181 

could  never  be  induced  to  attend  the  little  Epis- 
copal chapel  where  Mrs.  Maxwell  went,  but 
"  favoured  his  own  meetin'-'us,"  he  said,  which 
was  the  little  white  Unitarian  church  by  the 
post-office. 

"Folks  didn't  set  easy  in  Mrs.  Maxwell's 
church,"  he  often  said,  "  and  he  did  n't  like  to 
see  a  minister  in  a  white  petticoat,  with  a  black 
ribbund  around  his  neck."  It  did  n't  seem  re- 
spectful to  him  to  have  so  much  to  do  with  the 
service.  But  Billy  was  very  devout  in  his  own 
way,  and  never  missed  service  nor  Wednesday 
evening  prayer-meeting  in  his  own  church. 

"  H'lo,  Billy !  "  cried  Cricket,  beaming.  Don't 
you  want  to  carry  my  prayer  -  book  ?  I  want  to 
get  those  wild  roses." 

Billy  was  only  too  delighted. 

"  Had  a  good  sermon  ? "  pursued  Cricket,  in 
very  grown-up  fashion,  as  they  walked  along, 
side  by  side,  after  the  roses  were  secured. 

"Oh,  very  decent,  very  decent,"  answered 
Billy,  who  always  nodded  from  the  text  to 
"  Finally." 

"  What  was  it  about  ? "  went  on  Cricket,  feel- 
ing that  she  must  give  a  Sunday  tone  to  the 
conversation. 


182  CRICKET    AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

Billy  took  off  his  hat  and  scratched  his  head, 
to  assist  his  ideas. 

"'Bout  —  'bout  very  good  things,"  he  said, 
vaguely.  "  We  sang  a  pretty  hymn,  too." 

"  Did  you  ?     What  was  it  ? " 

"  That  hymn  about '  Hand  Around  the  Wash- 
rag.'  I  've  heard  you  a-singin'  it." 

"Hand  around  the  wash-ra,gl  Why  Billy 
Ruggles,  what  can  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  insisted  Billy,  who  had  a  good  ear  for 
music  in  his  poor,  cracked  head.  "  You  was 
singin'  it  las'  night." 

"  1  can't  imagine  what  you  mean,  Billy.  When 
we  were  on  the  piazza,  do  you  mean  ?  We  did  n't 
sing  anything  about  wash-rags,  I'm  sure.  We 
didn't  sing  but  three  things,  anyway,  because 
grandma  had  a  headache." 

"  It  was  the  first  thing  you  sang,"  persisted 
Billy. 

"  Oh  —  h !  "  Rally  Round  the  Watchword," 
and  Cricket,  regardless  of  her  Sunday  finery, 
sat  down  on  a  stone  to  laugh.  "  You  funny 
Billy ! " 

Billy  grinned,  though  he  did  not  see  the  joke. 

"  That 's  as  bad  as  what  Helen  insisted  they 
sang  last  Christmas,  in  the  infant  class,  some- 


THE    HAIKS    OF    HIS    HEAD.  183 

thing  about  '  Christmas  soda 's  on  the  breeze  ! ' 
I  don't  know  what  she  means,"  said  Cricket,  for- 
getting that  Billy  would  not  understand.  It 
was  such  a  relief  when  any  one  else,  even  old 
Billy,  mispronounced  words,  and  thus  gave  her 
a  chance  to  laugh  at  them.  It  was  her  heed- 
lessness  that  made  her  make  so  many  mistakes, 
for  her  quick  eyes  flashed  along  the  page,  taking 
in  the  meaning  and  general  form  of  the  words, 
without  grasping  the  exact  spelling. 

"  Hope  you  heard  a  go'od  sermon,"  said  Billy, 
making  conversation  in  his  turn. 

"  Oh,  yes,  very.  I  listened  to  almost  all  of  it. 
Mr.  Clark  said  something  about  something  being 
as  many  as  the  hairs  of  your  head,  and  there 
was  a  bald-headed  man  who  sat  right  in  front 
of  us,  and  he  only  had  the  teentiest  bit  of  hair, 
just  like  a  little  lambrequin  around  his  head. 
So  I  thought  I  could  easily  count  his  hairs,  be- 
cause they  were  so  straight  and  so  long,  and  so 
few  of  them,  anyway.  And,  Billy,  do  you  know, 
I  got  so  interested  that  I  began  to  count  right 
out  loud  once,  and  I  stood  up,  right  there  in 
church,  Billy,  while  the  minister  was  preaching, 
to  see  round  his  head  better,  and  Eunice  pulled 
me  down.  I  was  so  ashamed." 


184  CKICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

Billy  looked  so  shocked  that  Cricket  hastened 
to  add  : 

"  There  were  n't  very  many  people  who  saw 
me,  though,  for  we  sat  pretty  far  back.  I  did 
listen  to  the  sermon  after  that,  though.  I  had 
only  counted  up  to  two  hundred.  I  just  wonder 
how  many  hairs  a  person  has  on  his  head,  any- 
way. I  mean  a  person  with  the  regular  amount." 

"  Three  hundred  ?  "  hazarded  Billy,  hazily. 

"  No,  indeed ;  more  than  that.  Many  as  a 
thousand,  I  guess.  Oh,  Billy,  you  have  a 
splendid  lot  of  hair !  S  'pose  I  count  it  this 
afternoon  ?  " 

Billy  chuckled  assent. 

"Let's  go  out  in  the  orchard,  back  of  the 
beach.  It's  all  quiet  and  shady  there.  The 
girls  will  be  down  by  the  rocks,  and  the  boys 
are  going  for  a  long  walk.  So  there  will  be 
nobody  to  interrupt  us.  It  will  take  most  all 
the  afternoon,  I  guess,  but  I've  always  wanted 
to  know  how  many  hairs  grow  on  a  person's 
head.  I'll  come  for  you  after  dinner,  Billy, 
don't  forget ! "  and,  having  arrived  at  the  house, 
Cricket  skipped  up  the  porch  steps,  and  went 
up -stairs  to  relieve  herself  of  the  bondage  of 
her  pink  organdie  as  soon  as  possible. 


THE    HAIRS    OF    HIS    HEAD.  185 

After  dinner,  Cricket  found  her  willing  slave 
waiting  for  her  on  the  piazza. 

"  Let 's  go  right  off  before  the  others  come 
out,  for  we  don't  want  a  whole  raft  of  children 
after  us,"  she  said,  and  so  they  went  around  the 
house,  through  the  side  gate,  into  the  orchard. 

"  Here 's  a  lovely,  shady  spot.  You  sit  right 
down  on  this  hummock,  Billy,"  ordered  Cricket. 
"  Your  hair  is  just  fine  for  counting,"  she  went 
on,  taking  off  Billy's  shining  beaver. 

Billy  looked  much  flattered.  He  certainly  did 
have  a  good  crop  for  the  purpose.  His  hair  was 
rather  coarse,  very  wiry  and  bristling,  about  two 
inches  long,  and  as  clean  as  a  daily  scrubbing  in 
soap  and  water  could  make  it. 

"  Now,  where  shall  I  begin  ?  You  see  you 
have  n't  any  part,  Billy,  and  there 's  no  place  to 
start  from." 

"  Seem 's  if  my  hair  would  n't  stay  parted,"  said 
Billy,  meekly,  looking  troubled  by  the  fact. 

"  I  '11  part  it  right  in  the  middle,  and  you  put 
your  hand  up  and  hold  this  side  down,  while  I 
count  the  other.  I  '11  begin  right  in  front.  One 
— two — three  —  there,  Billy,  you  moved  your 
hand  a  little,  and  some  of  your  hair  slipped  right 
up  again,  and  I  've  lost  my  place." 


186  CRICKET    AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

"  I  did  n't  go  to  do  it,"  said  Billy,  pressing  his 
hand  down  harder  on  the  rebellious  hairs.  "  Is 
that  all  right  now  ?  " 

"  Yes,  that  will  do.  Now,  hold  still,"  and 
Cricket  began  again. 

"  Ninety-nine  —  one  hundred  —  oh,  Billy  !  " 
for  an  inquiring  wasp  came  whizzing  near,  and 
Billy  ducked  suddenly  to  avoid  it.  "  Now  I  've 
lost  that,  and  I  've  got  to  begin  again.  Billy,  you 
have  n't  any  string  in  your  pocket,  have  you  ? 
Then  I  could  tie  up  your  hair  in  bunches  when  I 
get  to  one  hundred,  and  count  the  bunches  after- 
ward." 

But  Billy  had  n't  a  string. 

"  1  '11  run  up  to  the  house  and  get  some,"  said 
Cricket,  darting  away.  She  was  back  in  a  few 
minutes,  with  a  small  pasteboard  box  in  her 
hand. 

"  This  is  better  than  string,"  she  panted.  "  I 
got  auntie's  little  box  of  rubber  bands.  Now  we 
can  count.  Never  mind  holding  your  hand  up, 
for  I  can  begin  anywhere." 

She  gathered  up  a  lock  of  hair,  counted  to  one 
hundred,  and  twisted  an  elastic  band  around  it, 
close  to  the  roots. 

"That's  one  hundred.     Now,  for  the  next," 


THE    HAIRS    OF    HIS    HEAD.  187 

she  said,  with  much  satisfaction.  She  counted 
on,  industriously,  and  soon  poor  Billy's  head 
bristled  with  queer-looking  little  bunches  on  one 
side.  She  was  much  too  engrossed  to  notice  the 
effect  at  first. 

Some  time  later,  grandmamma  and  Auntie 
Jean,  strolling  leisurely  through  the  orchard,  saw 
ahead  of  them  a  funny  sight:  Billy,  sitting 
meekly  on  a  hummock,  his  hands  on  his  black 
broadcloth  knees,  while  Cricket  stood  behind 
him,  bending  over  his  head,  all  over  the  top  of 
which  bristled  plumy  bunches  of  white  hair, 
which  stood  up  rampantly. 

"  What  in  the  world  is  that  child  doing,  mak- 
ing Billy  look  like  a  porcupine  ? "  exclaimed 
grandma,  standing  still  in  amazement,  unseen  by 
the  two. 

"  Playing  Horned  Lady,  I  should  think.  But 
I  dare  say  she  has  purpose  in  her  mind.  Listen. 
Why,  mother !  she 's  actually  counting  Billy's 
hair!" 

At  this  moment,  Cricket,  pausing  to  snap  an- 
other elastic  band  around  the  last  bunch,  for  the 
first  time  noticed  the  effect  of  her  hair  dressing. 

"  Oh,  Billy !  if  you  don't  look  just  as  if  you 
had  a  lot  of  little  feather  dusters  growing  on 


188  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHOEE. 

your  head ! "  she  cried,  holding  on  to  her  sides 
as  she  laughed. 

Billy  looked  disturbed.  He  decidedly  objected 
to  being  laughed  at.  He  put  up  his  hand  to  feel. 

"  Don't  take  them  down,"  said  Cricket,  push- 
ing his  hand  away.  "  I  'm  going  on.  My  !  what 
a  lot  of  hair  people  have.  Let 's  see  how  many 
bunches  I  have.  Twenty -two  —  twenty-three. 
That  makes  twenty-three  hundred,  and  there's 
lots  more  to  do,  yet.  I  don't  wonder  people 
mean  so  much  when  they  say,  as  many  as  the 
hairs  of  your  head,  do  you  ? " 

"  How  many,  Cricket  ?  "  asked  auntie,  laugh- 
ing, as  she  and  grandma  drew  nearer. 

«  Who 's  that  ?  Oh,  auntie !  "  Cricket  looked 
a  little  abashed.  "  I  'm  only  counting  Billy's 
hair,"  she  explained.  "  Mr.  Clark  said  this 
morning  that,  if  we  counted  our  mercies,  we 
should  find  them  as  many  as  the  hairs  of  our 
heads." 

"  It  might  be  easier  to  count  the  mercies," 
said  auntie,  still  laughing. 

"  Yes,  I  thought  of  that  coining  home  from 
church,"  said  Cricket,  going  on  with  her  work  of 
gathering  up  wisps  of  Billy's  hair  into  plumes, 
and  fastening  them  by  the  bands,  though  with- 


THE    HAIRS    OF    HIS    HEAD.  189 

out  counting.  "  Then  I  did  n't  know  exactly 
what  my  mercies  are,  excepting  that  'Liza  says 
it  is  a  mercy  I  'm  not  twins." 

"  What  had  you  been  doing  when  she  said 
that,  Jean  ? "  immediately  asked  grandma,  who 
never  used  her  nickname. 

"  Nothing,  much,"  said  Cricket,  "  only  'Liza 
gets  cranky  sometimes,  you  know." 

"  That  won't  do,  Cricket,"  said  Auntie  Jean, 
scenting  mischief.  "  Tell  me  what  you  did." 

"  Really,  it  was  n't  much.  It  was  this  morn- 
ing, and  'Liza  had  Helen  in  the  bath-tub  bathing 
her,  and  I  went  into  the  nursery  a  moment,  and 
Zaidee  was  in  bed,  and  she  said  her  leg  hurt  her, 
and  'Liza  was  going  to  rub  it  with  '  Pond's  Ex- 
trap,' —  that's  what  she  calls  Pond's  Extract, 
you  know,"  taking  breath,  —  "  and  I  only  meant 
to  help  'Liza,  really  and  truly.  So  I  took  down  the 
bottle  and  began  to  rub  Zaidee's  legs.  I  thought 
the  Pond's  Extract  seemed  to  have  gotten  dread- 
fully sticky,  and  it  was  all  thick  and  dark  like 
molasses,  and  I  could  hardly  rub  at  all  with  it, 
and  Zaidee  said  she  did  n't  like  it,  and  she  cried. 
But  I  thought  it  was  the  best  thing  to  do  for 
her,  so  I  told  her  a  story  to  keep  her  quiet,  till 
I  got  both  her  legs  all  rubbed.  Then  'Liza 


190  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

came  in,  and  wanted  to  know  what  made  Zaidee's 
legs  so  sticky,  and  the  sheets  and  her  nightdress 
were  pretty  bad,  because  she  wiggled  so  that  I 
spilled  some.  'Liza  just  snatched  the  bottle  away, 
very  unpolitely,  when  I  only  told  her  that  I  had 
been  helping  her  because  she  was  so  busy,  and 
Zaidee  wanted  her  legs  rubbed.  '  It 's  Kemp's 
Balsam,'  she  said,  '  and  I  'm  giving  it  to  Helen 
for  her  cough,  and  it 's  not  Pond's  Extract,  at 
all.'  But  it  was  a  Pond's  Extract  bottle,  auntie, 
truly,  so  how  should  I  know  ?  And  then  she 
said,  '  it  was  a  mercy  I  was  n't  twins,'  "  finished 
Cricket,  looking  much  aggrieved. 

Auntie  laughed  till  the  tears  came  into  her 
eyes. 

"  Kemp's  Balsam,  of  all  sticky  things !  "  she 
said.  "  Poor  Zaidee !  did  she  have  to  be 
scraped  ?  " 

" '  Liza  said  she  guessed  she  would  have  to 
scrape  her,"  admitted  Cricket,  reluctantly. 
"  And  the  things  on  the  bed,  and  her  nightdress, 
had  to  be  changed.  I  kept  thinking  it  was 
pretty  funny  looking  stuff  for  Pond's  Extract, 
but  I  thought  perhaps  it  was  rancid." 

"  Rancid  Pond's  Extract !  Oh,  what  a  girl !  " 
laughed  grandma,  but  patting  her  head,  consol- 


THE    HAIRS    OF    HIS    HEAD. 

ingly,  "  Our  little  Jean  is  very  nice,  but  I  think 
I  'm  glad,  myself,  you  're  not  twins." 

"  There  'd  be  two  of  us  to  fall  through  ceil- 
ings, then,"  meditated  Cricket,  "  for  I  suppose  if 
I  was  twins  we  'd  be  always  together  like  Zaidee 
and  Helen.  No,  I  'm  glad  there  is  only  one  of 
me.  It's  more  convenient.  I  don't  want  to 
count  any  more,  now,  Billy,  but  would  you  mind 
keeping  your  hair  that  way  for  a  day  or  two,  so 
I  could  count  whenever  I  like  ?  " 

And  if  auntie  had  not  interposed  in  his  behalf, 
I  do  not  know  but  Billy  might  still  be  walking 
the  streets  of  Marbury  with  his  crested  decora- 
tion. 


CHAPTER   Xin. 

A   WRESTLING   MATCH. 

"  THAT  's  it !  Prime  !  Now,  again !  "  shouted 
Will,  encouragingly,  and  Cricket,  in  her  blue 
gymnasium  suit,  panting  and  laughing,  put  her 
shoulder  to  Archie's  again,  and  stood  in  position. 
Will  was  giving  her  a  lesson  in  wrestling,  at  her 
particular  request,  and  she  was  proving  an  apt 
pupil,  for  the  slender,  elastic  little  figure  and 
supple  muscles  made  up  for  any  lack  of  strength. 

"  Good,  good ! "  repeated  Will,  as  Cricket, 
swaying  and  tugging,  and  bending  backward 
almost  double,  came  up  like  a  steel  wire. 
"  Bravo !  we  '11  soon  have  you  champion  lady 
wrestler  in  a  dime  museum.  At  him  again ! 
good  enough !  hurray ! "  for  Cricket,  slipping 
through  Archie's  grasp  like  a  knotless  thread, 
took  him  suddenly  unawares,  and  fairly  and 
squarely  tripped  him  up. 

"By  jove!"  ejaculated  Archie,  still  on  his 
back,  too  much  surprised  to  get  up. 

"  Well  done,  Miss  Scricket ! "  applauded  Will. 
"  Bet  you  can't  do  it  again." 


A   WRESTLING   MATCH.  193 

" Come  over  here,  and  I '11  try  you"  offered 
Cricket,  and  Will,  laughingly,  put  his  arm 
around  her  waist.  But  his  superior  size  and 
strength  soon  told,  and  Cricket  found  herself 
down  on  her  back. 

"But  you  do  well,  youngster,"  said  Will, 
patronizingly.  "  Try  that  twist  once  more  that 
you  tripped  Archie  up  on.  That 's  a  good  one  ! 
Now,  again !  That  would  fetch  anybody  if  they 
were  n't  expecting  it." 

"  I  'm  tired  now,"  said  Cricket,  throwing  her- 
self on  the  grass,  for  they  were  in  the  orchard. 
"  Let 's  rest  awhile."  She  clasped  her  hands 
above  her  head,  and  lay  back  on  the  grass. 
Archie  drew  himself  up  on  to  one  of  the  low 
gnarled  trees  and  balanced  himself  in  a  very 
precarious  way  directly  over  her  head. 

"  If  you  fall  off  that  limb,  you  will  come 
straight  down  and  break  my  nose,"  warned 
Cricket. 

"  There  is  n't  enough  of  it  to  break,  miss," 
said  Archie,  balancing  himself  with  care,  as  he 
tried  to  see  if  he  could  kneel  upon  a  horizontal 
branch  without  holding  on. 

"  You  '11  have  to  be  of  a  very  equilibrious 
nature  to  do  that,"  said  Cricket,  rolling  hastily 


194  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

out  of  her  dangerous  position,  just  in  time,  for 
Archie  overbalanced  himself,  and  came  down 
with  a  crash. 

"  Now,  see  what  you  've  done,"  said  Archie, 
sitting  up  and  feeling  of  his  back.  "  You  spoke 
at  the  wrong  time.  I  might  have  broken  my 
neck." 

Cricket  meditated  a  moment,  then  addressed 
the  sky,  thoughtfully. 

"  Is  n't  it  funny  that  ^when  anything  happens 
to  a  boy  all  by  his  own  fault,  he  always  says  to 
somebody,  '  See  what  you  've  made  me  do.' 
Anybody  would  think  Id  made  Archie  fall 
there." 

"Well,  did  n't  you?" 

"  When  Donald  can't  find  anything  that  he  's 
gone  and  lost  himself,"  went  on  Cricket,  still 
addressing  the  sky,  "  he  always  says  he  wishes 
the  girls  would  let  his  things  alone.  Boys  are 
the  funniest." 

"  If  they  're  any  funnier  than  girls,  I  '11  eat 
my  boots,"  said  Archie,  firing  green  apples  at 
a  mark.  "  Girls  are  so  finicky.  There 's  Edna, 
squeals  if  you  touch  her.  If  I  give  her  hair  just 
one  little  yank,  you  would  think  I  'd  pulled  her 
scalp  off.  If  I  give  Will  a  good  punch  "  —  illus- 


A   WKESTLING   MATCH.  195 

trating  with  a  resounding  whack — "he  doesn't 
squeal." 

"  No,  but  he  hits  back,"  said  Cricket,  laugh- 
ing, as  Will  levelled  Archie,  by  a  vigorous 
thump.  "  If  Edna  should  hit  you  a  few  times 
like  that,  you  would  n't  tease  her  so." 

"  And  she 's  always  so  careful  of  her  clothes," 
went  on  Archie,  ignoring  this  point ;  "  can't  do 
this,  because  she'll  spoil  her  apron,  can't  do 
that,  because  she  '11  muss  her  hair." 

"  Boys  ar'  n't  talked  to  about  their  clothes  as 
girls  are,"  said  Cricket,  with  a  sigh.  "  If  you 
just  heard  'Liza  talk  when  we  tear  our  clothes ! 
She  has  to  mend  them.  Would  n't  I  be  happy 
if  I  could  go  around  all  the  time  in  my  gymna- 
sium suit.  I  feel  so  light  and  airy." 

"  And  girls  are  so  affected,"  pursued  Archie. 
"  You  would  n't  walk  with  us  yesterday  coming 
home  from  church,  and  why  not?  'Cause  you 
had  your  best  bonnet  on,  and  you  carried  your 
head  too  high.  So  affected !  " 

"  It  was  n't  affectedness,  it  was  got  -  to  -  do- 
it -  ness,"  said  Cricket,  stoutly.  "  If  you  had 
to  go  to  church  with  a  great,  big,  flappy, 
floppy  hat  on,  that  joggled  your  ears  all  the 
time,  'cause  the  roses  were  so  heavy,  and  if  you 


196  CKICKET    AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

had  to  be  careful  to  keep  your  pink  organdie 
clean  for  next  Sunday,  and  if  you  had  a  teasy 
cousin,  who,  likely  as  not,  would  take  hold  of 
your  arm,  and  crunch  your  sleeves  all  down, 
most  probably  you'd  have  walked  all  by  your- 
self, too,  and  tried  to  keep  yourself  respectable 
so  'Liza  would  n't  scold.  But  you  're  a  boy," 
finished  Cricket,  with  a  burst  of  envy,  "  and  so 
you  don't  bother  about  clothes.  And,  anyway, 
boys  will  never  admit  they're  to  blame  about 
anything,"  returning  suddenly  to  the  original 
charge. 

"  Because  they  never  are,  of  course,"  answered 
Archie,  turning  a  back  somersault.  "  It 's  always 
somebody  else's  fault." 

"  Did  you  hear  auntie  tell  that  funny  story 
about  Archie,  last  night,  Will  ? "  asked  Cricket. 

"  Funny  story  about  me,  miss  ?  There  never 
was  any  funny  story  about  me." 

"  This  was  a  little  bit  funny,  anyway.  Auntie 
said  you  were  n't  but  three  years  old,  and  she 
was  visiting  with  you,  at  Kayuna.  It  was  early 
one  morning,  before  breakfast,  and  the  piazza 
had  just  been  washed  up,  and  was  n't  dry  yet. 
Papa  was  reading  a  newspaper,  and  you  were 
running  up  and  down  the  piazza,  showing  off." 


A   WRESTLING   MATCH.  197 

"  Showing  off !  "  repeated  Archie,  with  a  sniff 
of  disdain. 

"  Yes,  sir,  showing  off.  Auntie  said  so.  She 
said  you  always  liked  to,  even  then.  Stop  firing 
apples  at  me.  You  nearly  hit  me  that  time. 
You  stood  still  just  in  front  of  papa,  and  gave  a 
little  kick  at  him,  and  your  foot  slipped,  and 
down  you  went  on  your  back.  And  you  got  up, 
as  angry  as  could  be,  and  you  said,  '  Now  see 
what  you  made  me  do,'  and  you  gave  another 
kick  at  him,  and  down  you  went  again.  Then 
auntie  said  you  screamed  out, '  Now  you  've  done 
it  again.  You  've  done  it  again.'  And  she  says 
that  ever  since,  you  always  say  that,  no  matter 
what  happens  to  you." 

"  There  comes  grandma,"  said  Archie,  chang- 
ing the  subject,  immediately,  since  he  knew  by 
long  experience  that  Cricket  was  apt  to  get  the 
best  of  him,  in  such  conversations. 

"  She 's  been  to  see  that  sick  woman,"  said 
Cricket,  jumping  up  and  running  to  meet  her. 
She  had  the  most  unbounded  admiration  for  her 
stately,  handsome  grandmother,  who  by  some 
strange  attraction  of  opposites,  had  an  especially 
soft  place  in  her  heart  for  her  hoydenish  little 
namesake. 


198          CRICKET    AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

Grandmother  Maxwell  was  by  no  means  an 
old  lady  yet,  in  spite  of  her  flock  of  grandchil- 
dren, for  she  was  only  just  sixty,  and  was  as 
erect  and  vigorous,  in  spite  of  her  snow-white 
hair,  as  a  girl.  Beauty -loving  little  Cricket 
thought  her  dead  perfection,  and  adored  her. 

"  What  a  hot  little  face,"  said  grandmother, 
lightly  touching  Cricket's  cheek.  Cricket  put 
her  arm  about  her  grandmother's  waist,  which 
she  was  just  tall  enough  to  do,  and  walked  along 
beside  her. 

"  The  boys  have  been  teaching  me  to  wrestle," 
she  explained.  "  I  'm  learning  fast,  grandma. 
It 's  just  as  easy.  Get  up,  Archie,  .and  let  me 
show  grandma  how  I  can  throw  you." 

"  Throw  me !  well,  I  like  that.  I  happened 
to  stumble  on  a  stone,  grandma,  and  Cricket 
thinks  she  threw  me.  She  could  n't  do  it  again 
to  save  her  life." 

"  Come  and  try,  then,"  said  Cricket,  invitingly. 
But  Archie  declined,  on  the  plea  of  its  being  too 
hot. 

"Isn't  he  lazy,  grandma?"  said  Cricket,  dis- 
dainfully. "  But  I  can  show  you,  grandma,  how 
we  do  it.  Put  your  arm  around  me  this  way,  and 
take  hold  of  my  hand.  Now  then,  see.  I  try  to 


A    WRESTLING    MATCH.  199 

get  my  foot  around  your  ankle,  quickly,  and  give 
a  little  jerk,  and  pull  this  way  — 

And  to  the  unbounded  astonishment  of  all 
three,  stately  grandma  suddenly  and  unexpect- 
edly measured  her  length  on  the  grass,  with 
Cricket  on  top  of  her.  Cricket's  illustration  had 
been  altogether  too  graphic. 

"  Jean  ! "  gasped  grandma,  as  she  went  over. 
Cricket  rolled  over  and  sprang  to  her  feet  in  a 
flash. 

"  Oh,  grandma !  please  excuse  me !  I  'm  so 
sorry !  I  did  n't  mean  to.  I  never  thought  I 
could  do  it  so  quickly,  for  you  're  so  large.  I 
only  meant  to  show  you." 

Will  and  Archie  were  bending  over  grandma, 
to  help  her  rise.  Her  foot  was  twisted  under 
her. 

"  Wait,  boys,"  she  said.  "  I  'm  lying  on  my 
foot." 

It  is  not  easy  for  a  large  person  who  is  lying 
on  her  back,  with  her  foot  doubled  up  under  her, 
to  find  her  centre  of  gravity.  It  was  several 
minutes  before  she  could  be  helped  to  a  sitting 
position.  She  was  very  pale,  although  she 
laughed.  « 

"  Children,  I  'm  really  afraid,  —  Jean,  you  ab- 


200  CRICKET    AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

surd  child!  how  did  you  throw  me  over  so 
quickly  ?  I  really  am  afraid  that  my  ankle  is 
sprained.  I  don't  think  I  can  step  on  it.  See 
if  you  can  help  me  to  stand,  boys,  and  I  '11  try  it." 

"  Oh,  grandma !  "  groaned  Cricket,  in  horror. 
"  Have  I  sprained  your  ankle  ? " 

"  It  probably  is  n't  bad,  dear,"  said  grandma, 
quickly.     "  At  any  rate,  you  did  n't  mean  to  — 
Hush,  Archie !  "  as  that  young  man  gave  Cricket 
a  reproachful  — 

"  Now  you  have  done  it !  " 

Will  and  Archie,  being  stout,  well-grown  boys, 
easily  raised  grandma  to  her  feet,  or,  to  her  foot, 
rather,  for  she  immediately  found  she  could  not 
bear  her  weight  on  her  left  ankle,  and  she  sat 
down  rather  suddenly  again. 

"  Dear  me  !  this  is  a  dignified  position  for  a 
grandmother,"  she  said.  "  Never  mind,  dear. 
It  was  only  an  accident.  Take  off  my  shoe, 
please,  for  my  foot  is  swelling,  I  think.  Archie, 
go  for  Luke,  and  tell  him  to  bring  a  piazza-chair, 
and  I  think  you  can  manage  to  carry  me  in  on 
that,  can't  you?  Then  tell  Auntie  Jean  that 
I  'm  here,  and  have  sprained  my  ankle,  and  tell 
her  to  have  some  arnica  and  bandages  ready 
when  I  get  there.  Why,  don't  cry,  darling,"  as 


A    WRESTLING    MATCH.  201 

two  big  tears  welled  up  in  Cricket's  gray  eyes, 
and  splashed  over  her  cheeks,  where  her  dimples 
were  entirely  out  of  sight,  at  the  dreadful  thought 
that  she  had  sprained  grandma's  ankle. 

In  a  few  moments  Auntie  Jean  came  flying 
across  the  orchard,  bandages  and  arnica  in  hand, 
while  the  waitress  came  after  with  a  water- 
pitcher. 

"  Mother  ! "  said  Mrs.  Somers,  in  greatest  sur- 
prise. "  How  did  you  manage  to  fall  and  sprain 
your  ankle  on  this  perfectly  level  ground  ?  " 

"  It 's  rather  humiliating  to  confess  that  I 
was  wrestling  with  my  granddaughter,  and  that 
she  got  the  best  of  me,"  returned  grandma,  pat- 
ting Cricket's  hand.  "  It 's  my  first  and  last 
pugilistic  performance." 

"  It's  my  fault,"  burst  out  Cricket,  "  and  I 
ought  to  be  put  in  jail.  Will  had  been  showing 
me  how  to  wrestle,  and  he  had  taught  me  such 
a  good  twist,  that  I  caught  Archie  on,  and  I 
thought  I'd  just  show  grandma  —  just  barely 
show  her,  auntie,  and  I  put  my  foot  around  her 
ankle,  and  somehow,  she  went  right  over  like 
ninepins,  and  doubled  up  her  foot.  Oh,  grandma ! 
can  you  ever  walk  again  ? " 

Grandma's  lips  were  getting  rather  white  with 


202  CRICKET   AT   THE    SEASHORE. 

pain  from  her  foot,  but  she  laughed  again,  and 
said,  brightly  : 

"  Yes,  indeed,  little  maid,  I  will  be  all  right 
in  a  week  or  two." 

"  A  week ! "  groaned  Cricket.  "  I  thought  you 
were  going  to  say  to-morrow." 

Auntie  Jean  had  slipped  off  grandma's  stock- 
ing, and  was  bathing  her  rapidly  swelling  foot 
with  arnica.  In  a  few  minutes,  Will,  and  Archie, 
and  Luke  appeared,  bringing  a  piazza-chair,  and 
two  stout  poles.  Auntie  Jean  bandaged  the 
foot  temporarily,  and  then  Luke  and  Will  helped 
grandma  up  in  the  chair.  They  slipped  the 
poles  lengthwise  under  the  chair,  and  Luke  stood 
ready  to  lift  the  front  ends  as  Will  and  Archie 
took  the  rear  ones. 

"Wait  a  moment,"  said  Aunt  Jean,  as  the 
procession  was  ready  to  start.  "  Can't  I  fix  a 
support  for  your  foot,  mother  ?  It  will  hurt  it 
dreadfully  to  hang  it  down." 

"  Put  a  stick  across  the  poles,  and  the  cushion 
on  it,"  suggested  Cricket,  quickly,  "  and  lay  her 
foot  on  that."  She  picked  up  a  stout  stick,  and 
laid  it  in  place,  while  Archie  put  the  cushion  on 
it,  and  adjusted  grandma's  foot  on  it. 

"  That 's  a  capital  suggestion,"  said  grandma, 


A   WKESTLING   MATCH.  203 

approvingly.      "  That    feels    very   comfortable. 
Are  you  sure  you  can  lift  me,  boys  ? " 

"  Could  carry  a  ton  this  way,  Mrs.  Maxwell," 
said  Luke.  "  All  ready,  boys.  Hist  all  together, 
now."  And  as  they  all  "  histed  "  the  procession 
moved.  Auntie  Jean  and  Cricket  walked  on 
either  side,  keeping  the  cushion  and  stick  in 
place.  So  grandma  finally  arrived,  was  helped 
up  the  piazza  steps,  and  into  her  own  room, 
which  was,  fortunately,  on  the  first  floor. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

PLAYING    NURSE. 

POOR  Cricket  went  around  with  a  face  as  long 
as  her  arm,  all  the  rest  of  the  day,  dreadfully 
cast  down  by  this  unfortunate  result  of  her 
wrestling  lessons.  For  a  while,  she  was  almost 
ready  to  vow  that  she  would  never  do  anything 
again  that  the  boys  did,  but  when  she  thought  of 
all  the  lovely  things  this  would  cut  her  off  from, 
she  could  n't  make  up  her  mind  to  go  that  length. 

Auntie  Jean  soon  assured  her  that  the  sprain 
was  not  at  all  serious,  and  that  the  inflammation 
seemed  to  be  going  down  already,  but  her  heart 
was  very  heavy.  She  would  not  go  sailing  with 
the  boys,  nor  sit  under  the  rocks  with  the  girls, 
and  at  last  she  buried  herself  in  her  next  story 
for  the  Echo.  A  very  tragic  and  mournful 
tale  it  was,  of  a  naughty  little  girl,  who  was  left 
in  charge  of  her  small  brother,  but  who  ran  away, 
all  by  herself,  up  garret,  to  play,  and  when  she 
went  back  she  found  her  poor  little  baby  brother 
had  fallen  into  the  bath-tub,  which  was  left  half 
full  of  water,  and  was  drowned.  Picturing  the 


"  SUE    BURIKD    HERSELF    IX    THE    STORY    FOR 
'THE    ECHO'" 


PLAYING  NURSE.  207 

remorse  of  her  heroine,  and  how  they  finally 
brought  the  baby  back  to  life,  although  he  had 
been  in  the  water  all  the  afternoon, —  of  course 
Cricket  did  not  mind  a  little  thing  like  that,  — 
somewhat  relieved  her  mind.  By  supper -time 
she  had  sufficiently  recovered  so  that  she  could 
allow  herself  to  smile. 

Will  came  in  from  the  post-office,  waving  a 
letter  that  finished  the  work.  It  was  from  Hilda 
Mason,  saying  that  she  could  come  on  Friday 
next,  as  Cricket,  with  auntie's  permission,  had 
written,  asking  her  to  do,  to  spend  a  week. 

"  Goody !  goody  !  "  cried  Cricket,  dancing 
around,  with  her  dimples  quite  in  evidence  again. 
"  Won't  we  have  fun !  and  she  can  write  a  story 
for  the  «  Echo,'  too." 

"  What  bliss !  "  remarked  Archie,  bringing  all 
her  curly  hair  over  her  face  with  a  sweep  of  his 
arm. 

"  It 's  a  great  honour  to  be  a  contributor  to  a 
paper,  Mr.  Archie,  so,"  shaking  back  her  hair, 
and  pulling  his. 

"  Especially  for  one  that  pays  so  liberally  as 
the  '  Echo,' "  teased  Archie. 

"  You  're  a  model  of  sarcasticity,  I  suppose 
you  think,"  said  Cricket,  tossing  her  head.  "  Aun- 


208  CRICKET    AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

tie,  will  you  take  us  to  Plymouth  some  day  ?  I 
know  Hilda  will  want  to  see  Plymouth  Rock." 

"  Watch  her  that  she  does  n't  carry  it  off  in 
her  pocket,"  advised  Archie. 

"  And  all  the  other  interesting  things  in  Ply- 
mouth," went  on  Cricket,  turning  her  back  on 
him.  "  And  we  '11  go  over  to  Bear  Island  for  a 
picnic,  girls." 

"  Yes,  if  you  '11  promise—  "  began  Edna. 

"  Goodness,  yes !  if  you  won't  say  anything 
more  about  it,"  interrupted  Cricket,  hastily. 
"  And,  oh,  auntie  !  could  n't  we  have  some  cha- 
rades ?  Some  real,  regular  charades,  I  mean, 
not  little  ones  all  by  ourselves." 

"  I  '11  be  in  them,  if  you  '11  have  something  I 
like,"  offered  Archie,  condescendingly. 

"  If  we  have  any  charades,  you  may  be  sure  we 
won't  ask  you,"  returned  Cricket,  crushingly. 
"  I  '11  have  Will,  though.  He 's  a  very  good  ac- 
tress, and  he  doesn't  spoil  everything,  as  some 
other  people  do." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Will,  making  a  bow,  with 
his  hand  on  his  heart. 

"  I  'm  out  of  it,  then,"  said  Archie,  "  for  I 
know  I  'm  not  a  good  actress." 

"  Of  course  I  meant  actor.     There  is  n't  much 


PLAYING   NURSE.  209 

difference,  anyway.  Just  two  letters.  Anyway, 
we  '11  have  a  beautiful  time.  You  '11  have  Edna, 
Eunice,  and  I  '11  have  Hilda." 

"  What  do  you  suppose  would  happen  if  it 
should  chance  to  be  a  rainy  week,  and  I  should 
have  you  all  on  my  hands  to  entertain  in 
the  house,  now,  while  grandma  is  laid  up  ? 
Would  there  be  any  house  left  ? "  asked  Auntie 
Jean. 

"  The  cellar,"  said  Eunice.  "  But  I  'd  be  sorry 
for  you,  auntie." 

"  And  I  for  myself.  But  I  don't  think  it  will 
rain,  and  you  '11  probably  have  a  lovely  time  to- 
gether." 

"  Don't  expect  too  much,"  advised  Will. 
"  Anticipation  is  always  better  than  reality,  you 
know." 

"  It  would  n't  be,  if  people  always  had  as  good 
a  time  as  they  expected,"  remarked  Cricket, 
thoughtfully. 

There  was  a  shout  at  this. 

"  Exactly,  little  wiseacre.  That 's  the  trouble," 
laughed  auntie.  "  Write  to  Hilda  to  come  on 
the  4.10  train  Friday  afternoon,  and  we  '11  all  be 
ready  to  help  you  both  have  as  good  a  time  as 
you  anticipate." 


210  CKICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

Cricket  departed  to  write  the  following  letter : 

"  DEAREST  OLD  HILDA  : 

"  I  was  so  glad  to  get  your  letter  that  I  nearly  jumped 
out  of  my  shoes.  We  '11  have  the  greatest  fun  that  ever 
was,  and  auntie  will  take  us  to  Plymouth,  and  I  '11 
guess  Will  will  sail  us  out  beyond  the  Gurnet  Light, 
and  we  can  have  a  picnic  on  the  island,  perhaps.  What 
do  you  think  I've  gone  and  done  to-day?  I  expect 
you  '11  say  it 's  just  like  me,  and  I  'm  sure  it  is  n't  like 
anybody  else,  and  I  'm  awfully  morterfied.  I  wrestled 
with  grandmother,  my  grandmother  Maxwell,  when  she 
did  n't  know  I  was  going  to,  and  I  tipped  her  right  over 
accidentally,  without  meaning  to,  and  I  Ve  almost 
broken  her  leg !  !  !  Is  n't  that  too  dreadful  f  I  did  n't 
quite  break  her  leg,  but  I  sprained  her  ankle,  so  she 
can't  walk.  I  never  knew  anybody  to  do  such  terrible, 
morterfying  things  as  I  do.  I  do  hope  I  '11  get  to  be 
proper  and  good  when  I  'm  grown-up.  It  would  be  very 
nice  to  be  born  proper,  and  very  nice  for  my  mother, 
but  then  I  would  n't  have  had  so  much  fun.  I  want  to 
see  you  so  much  that  I  can't  wait,  hardly.  It  seems  a 
million  years  till  Friday.  Remember  you  're  to  stay  a 
whole  week,  and  we  '11  have  loads  of  fun.  Auntie  says 
come  on  the  4.10  train,  and  we  '11  meet  you. 
"  Yours  very  lovingest, 

"JEAN  MAXWELL." 

The    next    morning,   after    breakfast,   when 
grandma  was  up  and  dressed,  with  her  sprained 


PLAYING   NURSE.  211 

foot  resting  on  a  cushioned  chair  in  front  of  her, 
Cricket  presented  herself  at  the  door. 

"  I  've  come  to  be  your  legger,  grandma,"  she 
announced,  "  and  I  '11  read  to  you,  or  amuse  you, 
or  play  dominos  or  halma  with  you,  or  anything 
you  like.  Or  we  might  play  go-bang.  That 's 
very  interesting." 

"  Thank  you,  little  granddaughter,"  said  grand- 
mother, much  amused,  but  touched  as  well.  "  I  '11 
be  very  glad  to  have  a  legger,  but,  after  all,  it 
wasn't  my  eyes  that  were  sprained,  so  I  can 
read  very  well  for  myself.  I  could  n't  think  of 
keeping  you  in  all  this  beautiful  day." 

But  Cricket  begged  to  be  allowed  to  stay  with 
her,  and  stay  she  did.  A  deft  little  nurse  she 
proved.  She  initiated  grandmother  into  the 
mysteries  of  go-bang,  and  the  "  Chequered  Game 
of  Life ; "  she  read  in  the  morning  papers  the 
articles  that  grandmother  pointed  out,  and  let 
herself  be  taught  checkers  and  backgammon, 
showing  surprising  quickness  in  learning.  At 
last  she  nearly  paralyzed  her  grandmother  by 
voluntarily  suggesting  her  going  and  bringing 
her  knitting,  to  knit  a  little,  "  while  we  just 
plain  talk  for  a  change,"  she  said. 

So  the  little  maid  ensconced  herself  in  a  chair 


212  CKICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

near  grandma's  large  one,  with  her  wash-rag. 
Grandma  took  up  her  knitting,  also,  and  the 
needles  clicked,  socially. 

"  Why  could  n't  you  tell  me  a  story  ?  I  al- 
ways forget  to  talk  while  I  'm  knitting,  so  I 
can't  be  very  entertaining,"  said  Cricket,  labori- 
ously pushing  her  needle  through  her  very  tight 
stitches,  and  twisting  her  face  into  a  very  hard 
knot.  The  boys  said  Cricket  knit  as  much  with 
her  face  as  with  her  fingers. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

A    KNITTING    BEE. 

"  WHAT  shall  the  story  be  about  ? "  asked 
grandma,  her  needles  flashing  as  they  flew. 

"  When  you  were  a  little  girl,"  answered 
Cricket,  promptly,  in  the  usual  formula.  "  Oh, 
grandma !  I  have  an  idea !  have  n't  you  a  box 
of  old  things  that  I  could  look  over,  and  select 
something  for  you  to  tell  me  a  story  about,  like 
that  dear  old  grandma  in  '  Old-Fashioned  Girl  ? ' ' 

"  Yes,  Jean,  I  have  the  very  thing,  and  it 's 
a  good  idea.  Bring  me  that  little  table  that 
stands  in  the  corner.  That 's  right.  Put  it 
close  beside  me.  Now,  open  these  drawers  — 
yes,  pull  them  way  out.  Now,  lift  that  dividing 
piece.  You  see  the  bottom  is  inlaid.  Touch  the 
second  one  of  the  little  black  inlaid  circles." 

"  A  secret  drawer !  "  cried  Cricket,  excitedly. 
"  Oh,  grandma !  how  book-y  !  " 

"  Yes.  Grandpa  brought  this  table  from  China, 
years  ago.  It  is  full  of  secret  places." 

Cricket  touched  the  spring,  and  the  supposed 


214  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

bottom  flew  up,  showing  a  box  below.  The  little 
stand  was  really  more  of  a  cabinet  than  a  table, 
though  it  had  a  flat  top  and  rolled  easily  on  its 
castors.  In  the  box  thus  opened  were  all  sorts 
of  things. 

"  They  are  all  old  keepsakes,"  said  grandma. 
"  Find  something  you  want  to  hear  about." 

Cricket  lifted  a  string  of  oddly  carved  beads. 

"  This,  grandma.  Is  n't  it  funny  ?  Has  it  an 
interesting  story  ?  " 

Grandma  took  the  beads  in  her  hands, 
thoughtfully. 

"  It 's  an  old  keepsake,  to  be  sure,  and  I  used 
to  be  very  fond  of  it  when  I  was  a  girl,  and  I 
wore  it  a  good  deal,  but  I  don't  know  that  there 
is  any  story  connected  with  it.  But  I  '11  tell  you 
how  I  got  it.  It  taught  me  a  bit  of  a  lesson. 
I  '11  tell  you  the  story,  and  you  can  guess  the 
lesson  for  yourself,  if  you  can. 

"You  know  I  lived  in  Boston  when  I  was 
a  girl.  I  went  to  a  private  school  there,  of,  per- 
haps, twenty  girls.  It  was  kept  by  Miss  Sarah 
and  Miss  Abbie  Cartwright.  We  all  loved  Miss 
Sarah,  but  none  of  us  liked  Miss  Abbie,  and 
I  don't  wonder  at  it  when  I  think  how  little  she 
understood  girls. 


A   KNITTING    BEE.  215 

"We  used  to  recite  seated  in  a  semi -circle 
around  the  teacher,  and  all  whispering  was  strictly 
forbidden  during  the  recitation.  One  day  —  but 
I  must  stop  here,  and  tell  you  that  we  all  wore 
white  stockings  and  low  shoes  then.  We  never 
had  any  high  shoes  at  all.  Our  white  stockings 
must  always  be  fresh  and  clean,  of  course,  and 
I  always  put  on  a  clean  pair  every  day.  A  soiled 
stocking  would  have  made  us  feel  simply  dis- 
graced. Coloured  stockings  were  perfectly  un- 
known as  far  as  I  remember,  and  I  should  have 
felt  dreadfully  mortified  to  wear  anything  but 
white." 

"  Oh,  I  know !  like  Ellen  in  the  '  Wide,  Wide 
World,'  "  broke  in  Cricket.  "  Don't  you  remem- 
ber her  horrid  aunt,  who  dyed  all  her  white 
stockings  gray,  and  she  felt  so  badly  ?  I  never 
knew  why.  Would  n't  I  feel  silly  in  white 
stockings  now !  " 

"  Yes,  but  if  everybody  wore  them,  it  would  be 
different.  There  was  one  girl,  Phosbe  Dawson, 
in  my  class,  who  was  a  very  untidy  girl.  She 
always  had  hooks  off  her  dress,  or  a  hook  and 
eye  put  together  that  did  not  mate,  or  her  dress 
was  broken  from  its  gathers.  Her  stockings 
were  always  grimy  around  the  ankles.  Ours 


216  CKICKET    AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

were  always  smoothly  gartered  up,  but  hers 
wrinkled  down  over  her  shoes." 

"  Yes,"  nodded  Cricket,  "  Sort  of  mousque- 
taire  stockings." 

Grandma  laughed.  "  That  exactly  describes 
it.  I  know  now  there  was  some  excuse  for  her 
getting  her  stockings  so  dirty,  for  she  had  a 
much  longer  walk  to  school  than  any  of  us  did, 
as  she  .came  from  Charlestown,  —  over  a  long, 
dusty  road. 

"  So,  one  day,  as  I  was  saying,  the  recitation 
was  just  over,  and  Miss  Abbie  was  talking  about 
something  just  to  fill  up  the  time  till  the  class 
bell  should  ring.  Phoebe  Dawson  sat  just  oppo- 
site me  in  the  half  circle.  I  can  see  her  now. 
The  part  in  her  hair  was  as  uneven  as  possible 
-  what  we  used  to  call  a  '  rail-fence '  parting, 
and  her  braids  straggled  unevenly  down  behind 
her  ears.  She  had  forgotten  the  brooch  that 
should  have  fastened  her  collar.  The  facing  of 
her  dress  was  ripped  and  was  hanging  down,  and 
her  pantalets  were  actually  dirty." 

"  Pantalets,  grandma  ?  " 

"Yes,  we  all  wore  pantalets,  beautifully 
starched  and  ironed,  that  came  nearly  to  the 
tops  of  our  village-ties,  as  we  called  them.  We 


A    KNITTING    BEE.  217 

had  very  fancy  ones  for  Sundays,  and  plainer 
ones  for  every  day,  but  we  were  very  particular 
about  them.  Phoebe  sat  with  her  feet  crossed 
and  actually  sticking  out  in  front  of  her — which 
was  considered  very  bad  manners  —  and  her 
stockings  were  very  grimy. 

"  I  forgot  about  the  rule  of  no  whispering,  and 
I  said,  suddenly,  to  Dolly  Chipman,  who  sat  on 
the  other  side  of  me,  '  Pearl-gray  stockings  are 
the  latest  thing  from  Paris.  You  can  always  de- 
pend on  Phoebe  Dawson  to  set  the  style  —  pig- 
sty-le.' 

"  Instantly  Miss  Abbie's  cold,  gray  eyes  were 
on  me. 

"  *  Did  you  speak,  Miss  Winthrop  ?  '  for  we 
were  all  called,  very  formally,  by  our  last  names. 

"  '  Yes'm,'  I  answered,  very  meekly. 

"  '  Very  well,  then,  we  will  hear  the  remark 
you  made,  and  judge  if  it  was  necessary  enough 
to  excuse  you  for  breaking  the  rule.' 

"  I  fairly  gasped,  for  nothing  would  have  made 
me  repeat  the  remark,  and  hurt  Phoebe's  feelings. 
In  spite  of  her  untidiness,  we  all  liked  her,  for 
she  was  always  good  company.  Besides,  we 
really  respected  her,  for  she  was  one  of  the  best 
scholars  in  the  class. 


218  CKICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

"  '  Please  excuse  me,  Miss  Abbie,'  I  said,  get- 
ting furiously  red.  '  It  was  a  silly  little  remark 
I  made,  and  I  had  no  business  to  make  it.' 

"  '  We  will  be  the  best  judge  of  that,  Miss  Win- 
throp,'  she  said,  in  her  severest  tones.  Just  then 
the  class  bell  rang  outside  the  room.  This  hap- 
pened to  be  the  last  class  of  the  morning.  Some 
of  the  girls  got  up  to  go,  but  Miss  Abbie  mo- 
tioned them  down. 

"  '  If  you  choose  to  keep  the  whole  class  wait- 
ing,' she  said  to  me,  '  it  will  not  be  pleasant,  but 
we  can  wait.  I  hope  you  enjoy  feeling  we  are 
all  waiting  for  you.'  " 

"  How  perfectly  horrid  of  her !  "  cried  Cricket. 

"  I  really  think  it  was,  myself.  Well,  the  girls 
groaned  softly,  and  frowned  at  me,  and  motioned 
'  tell,'  with  their  lips,  but  nothing  would  have  in- 
duced me  to  have  repeated  my  silly  little  speech, 
and  make  them  all  laugh  at  Phoebe. 

"  I  was  ashamed  of  myself  already,  for  saying 
a  mean  thing  of  one  of  my  classmates,  even  to 
one  girl,  and  I  certainly  did  not  intend  to  re- 
peat the  remark  for  the  benefit  of  the  whole 
class. 

"  '  I  can't  tell  you  before  them  all,  Miss  Abbie,' 
I  said,  desperately,  '  but  I  will  tell  you  all  by 


A   KNITTING    BEE.  219 

yourself.  It  was  something  I  had  no  business  to 
say.' 

"  '  If  it  was  fitting  to  be  said  to  one  girl,  it  is 
fitting  to  be  heard  by  all,'  she  said,  inexorably. 
I  have  always  thought  that  she  was  very  dull  not 
to  see  that  it  must  have  been  some  uncompli- 
mentary personal  remark  —  possibly  about  her- 
self, for  all  she  knew." 

"  Oh,  I  wish  it  had  been ! "  broke  in  Cricket. 

"  I  am  very  glad  it  was  n't.  But  we  were 
well -trained  girls  in  those  days,  and  rarely 
thought  of  grumbling  at  anything  our  teachers 
did.  We  might  not  like  them,  but  I  don't  re- 
member talking  about  them  much. 

"  '  We  are  waiting,'  she  said,  again,  after  a 
moment. 

"  '  I  can't  tell  you  before  the  class,'  I  repeated, 
obstinately.  '  But  I  '11  tell  you  by  yourself.  I  'm 
ashamed  I  said  it,  anyway.' 

"Perhaps  Phoebe  had  noticed  me  glance  at 
her,  or  perhaps  she  knew,  more  than  we  realized, 
that  we  sometimes  made  fun  of  her  untidiness, 
for  she  suddenly  said,  good-naturedly : 

" '  Do  tell  what  it  is,  if  it 's  anything  about 
me,  I  sha'  n't  care.  I  'd  much  rather  go  home 
and  get  my  dinner.' 


220  CKICKET   AT    THE    SEASHOKE. 

"  '  Was  it  about  Phoebe  ? '  asked  Miss  Abbie, 
instantly. 

"To  this  point-blank  question,  I  had  to  say 
'  Yes.' 

"  '  Tell  it,'  urged  Phoebe,  good-naturedly. 

'"Well,  then,'  I  began,  desperately, — but  I 
could  not  say  it.  I  hesitated,  and  then  added, 
quickly : 

"  '  I  said  I  wondered  how  Phoebe  Dawson  al- 
ways managed  to  keep  herself  looking  so  nice  ! ' 

"A  little  surprised  look,  then  a  laugh,  went 
around  the  class.  Every  one  knew  that  I  was 
not  speaking  the  truth,  and  I  dare  say  Miss  Abbie 
knew  it  herself.  She  cast  a  very  sharp  glance  at 
me,  but,  nevertheless,  dismissed  the  class.  Every 
one  surrounded  me  in  the  cloak-room,  laughing, 
and  teasing  me  about  what  I  had  said.  But  I 
only  waited  till  Miss  Sarah  was  at  liberty,  and 
then  I  went  to  her  and  told  her  the  story.  I  was 
very  angry,  and  in  a  state  of  great  indignation 
against  Miss  Abbie,  and  finally  I  burst  out  with, 
'  She  made  me  tell  that  lie,  herself ! ' 

" '  Hush  !  my  dear ! '  Miss  Sarah  said,  gravely. 
'  If  you  think,  you  will  see  that  the  trouble  was 
that  your  sense  of  politeness  was  stronger  than 
your  sense  of  truth.  Again,  if  you  hadn't 


A   KNITTING   BEE.  221 

broken  the  rule  about  whispering  in  class  in  the 
first  place,  nothing  would  have  happened.  So  I 
think  we  won't  blame  Miss  Abbie.  I  will  tell 
her  about  it  myself,  and  nothing  more  will  be 
said  about  it  to  you.' 

"  I  thought  Miss  Sarah  was  very  good  and 
kind,  but  my  conscience  troubled  me  very  much. 
Phoebe  Dawson,  too,  made  me  feel  thoroughly 
ashamed  of  myself.  When  she  came  to  school 
the  next  day  she  brought  me  this  lovely  string 
of  beads,  which  she  said  her  uncle  had  brought 
her  home  from  India. 

" '  You  had  all  that  trouble  on  my  account  yes- 
terday,' she  said,  in  her  good-natured  way,  '  so  I 
brought  you  these  to  make  up.  My  uncle  brings 
me  quantities  of  things,  so  you  must  take  these, 
to  please  me,'  for,  of  course,  I  protested  against 
taking  them. 

" '  You  need  n't  have  minded  about  telling  what 
you  really  did  say,'  she  went  on.  '  I  know  I  'm 
dreadfully  untidy,  but  if  I  had  a  mother,  or  a 
sister,  or  any  one  to  look  out  for  me,  I  'd  be 
different,  perhaps,'  and  her  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

"  Well,  I  grew  very  fond  of  Phoebe  Dawson 
after  that,  and  soon  I  went  to  see  her.  She  had 
a  lovely  home,  full  of  beautiful  things,  but  every- 


222  CKICKET   AT   THE    SEASHORE. 

thing  was  as  untidy  and  uncared  for  as  she  was  her- 
self. Phoebe's  mother  had  died  when  she  was  a 
baby,  and  her  father  was  a  great  scholar,  who  was 
always  buried  in  his  books,  and  the  two  servants 
managed  things  as  they  liked.  But  Phoebe  im- 
proved very  much  as  she  grew  older,  and  we 
remained  friends  always." 

"  Is  she  living  now  ?  "  asked  Cricket,  turning 
over  the  beads  with  interest. 

"  No,  she  died  several  years  ago,  and  she  was 
the  grandmother  of  your  little  friend,  Emily 
Drayton. 

"  Was  she  ?  How  funny !  And  what  was 
the  lesson  you  learned,  grandma  ? " 

"You  may  guess  that  for  yourself,"  said 
grandma,  smiling.  "  Will  you  choose  again  ?  " 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

TWO   LITTLE    RUNAWAYS. 

CRICKET  dived  into  the  box  again. 

"  What 's  in  this  paper  ?  "  she  asked. 

Grandma  took  the  folded  sheet,  and  carefully 
opened  it.  There  were  two  soft  curls  of  bright 
gold  hair,  fastened  to  the  middle  of  it  by  sealing 
wax. 

"These  are  two  little  curls  I  cut  from  the 
children's  heads  when  they  were  small.  My 
children,  I  mean.  Your  mamma's  and  Auntie 
Jean's.  It  was  the  first  time  their  hair  was  ever 
cut,  and  how  badly  I  felt,  to  have  to  have  it 
done ! " 

"  But  why  did  you  do  it  ?  "  asked  Cricket. 

"  Naughty  little  things  !     I  had  to." 

"Oh,  do  tell  me  about  that.  I  just  love 
hearing  about  mamma  when  she  was  naughty ! " 
begged  Cricket,  turning  over  the  soft  gold  curls. 
"  It 's  just  exactly  like  Kenneth's  and  Helen's, 


224  CKICKET   AT   THE    SEASHORE. 

is  n't  it  ?  And  mamma's  hair  is  n't  very  much 
darker,  now,  is  it  ?  What  a  shame  you  had  to 
cut  it ! " 

"  Indeed  it  was.  I  was  so  proud  of  their  lovely 
hair,  and  they  were  such  lovely  children,  every- 
body said.  They  were  little  things.  Auntie 
Jean  was  nearly  five,  and  your  mamma  was 
three.  I  was  visiting  my  sister  in  Philadelphia 
with  them  both.  It  was  in  May,  but  it  was  very 
warm.  The  children  were  still  in  the  habit  of 
taking  an  afternoon  nap.  One  day  they  were 
put  to  bed,  as  usual,  about  two  o'clock,  and  my 
sister  and  myself  went  down -town  for  some 
shopping.  I  had  a  new  nursemaid,  whom  I  left 
in  charge,  of  course.  But  she  was  careless,  I 
suppose,  and  probably  went  down-stairs  to  gossip 
with  the  other  servants. 

"  Presently  the  children  woke  up,  and  as  they 
found  there  was  no  one  with  them,  they  slipped 
off  the  bed  by  themselves.  They  were  entirely 
undressed  and  in  their  little  night-clothes,  with 
bare  feet.  They  ran  around  up-stairs  for  a  while, 
and  then,  finding  nobody  about,  they  ran  down- 
stairs. The  front  door  stood  ajar,  so  out  they 
slipped,  and  pattered  away  down  the  street. 
They  were  always  independent  children,  and  not 


TWO    LITTLE    RUNAWAYS.  225 

a  bit  afraid  of  anything,  so  when  they  found  they 
were  out  all  alone  by  themselves,  they  decided 
to  go  and  '  see  uncle.'  They  had  been  taken  to 
his  office  down  -  town  several  times.  My  sister 
lived  in  what  was  then  a  very  quiet  part  of  Phil- 
adelphia, and  near  their  home  were  several  vacant 
lots.  The  children  strayed  in  here  to  pick  some 
grasses  and  weeds,  which  they  thought  were 
flowers. 

"  Unfortunately,  a  lot  of  burdocks  grew  there, 
and,  of  course,  the  children  picked  them,  and 
stuck  them  together,  with  great  delight.  Prob- 
ably some  of  them  got  caught  accidentally  in  the 
hair  of  one  of  them,  for,  as  far  as  we  could  make 
out  from  their  story  afterwards,  they  twisted 
them  in  each  other's  curls,  till  there  was  just 
a  mat  of  burs,  all  over  their  heads.  Then,  of 
course,  when  they  tried  to  take  them  out,  they 
only  made  matters  worse,  so  they  gave  it  up 
and  trotted  on.  Presently  they  came  to  a  grocery 
store,  where  all  sorts  of  things  stood  outside  of 
the  door. 

"  Strawberries  were  in  the  market,  so  these 
little  wretches  instantly  plunged  both  hands  into 
a  box  of  them,  and  stuffed  them  into  their  mouths. 
Next  they  sat  themselves  down  in  a  corner  made 


226  CKICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

by  some  big  boxes,  and  quietly  helped  themselves 
to  a  box  of  strawberries  apiece.  You  can  imag- 
ine the  state  of  their  little  night-dresses,  when 
they  were  through  with  this  feast,  just  a  mass 
of  strawberry  stain.  They  were  so  small  and  so 
quiet,  that  no  one  in  the  store  noticed  them  for 
some  time,  and  no  one  chanced  to  pass.  At  last 
a  lady  came  by,  and  spied  them.  Of  course  she 
instantly  saw  they  were  runaways,  and  spoke  to 
them. 

"  <  We  is  n't  yunning  away,'  Jean  insisted, 
'we  is  only  going  to  see  uncle.' 

" '  But  where  is  your  mamma  ? '  persisted  the 
lady. 

" '  Her 's  gone  to  see  uncle,  too,'  said  Jean. 
The  lady  knew  they  had  probably  run  away  from 
some  neighbouring  house,  so  she  went  into  the 
store  to  ask  a  clerk  to  come  and  see  if  he  knew 
them.  But  while  she  was  gone,  the  children 
slipped  away  down  the  side  street.  The  clerk 
told  us  all  about  this  afterwards,  for  it  was  a 
store  where  my  sister  often  went. 

"  Then  the  little  ones  probably  wandered 
around  a  good  deal,  though  we  never  knew 
where,  except  that  they  came  to  some  water  in 
a  gutter,  somewhere,  and  took  to  it  like  ducks. 


TWO    LITTLE    KUNAWAYS.  227 

They  must  have  paddled  in  it  for  some  time  — 
'  washing  their  feets,'  Jean  told  us  afterwards,  as 
an  excuse. 

"  Of  course,  by  this  time  they  had  collected  a 
crowd  around  them,  for  just  imagine  what  they 
looked  like  !  Nothing  on  but  white  night-dresses 

—  I  mean,  of  course,  that  were  originally  white, 

—  but  now  spattered  a  foot  deep  with  muddy 
water,  and  stained  all  over  with  crushed  straw- 
berries ;   and  they  were  barefooted,  with  their 
golden  curls  stuck  full  of  burs,  till  they  looked 
like  little  porcupines." 

"  Grandma !  how  funny !  and  to  think  that 
was  mamma,"  broke  in  Cricket,  in  great  enjoy- 
ment of  the  picture. 

"  They  must  have  looked  as  badly  as  Zaidee 
and  Helen  did  when  they  came  in  from  swim- 
ming in  the  tanks  at  the  cheese  factory  the 
other  day." 

"  Worse,  if  anything,  because  the  strawberry 
stains  made  them  look  as  if  they  had  been 
through  the  wars,  poor  little  mites.  At  last  a 
policeman  took  them  in  charge." 

"  Think  of  mamma  being  actually  arrested  ! 
That 's  worse  than  anything  that 's  ever  hap- 
pened to  me,"  said  Cricket. 


228  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

"  That's  your  good  fortune,"  laughed  grandma. 
"  Your  wash-rag  is  n't  getting  along  very  fast, 
is  it?  I  thought  you  were  going  to  knit  as  I 
talk." 

"  Oh,  I  am  !  I  am  !  "  cried  Cricket,  scrabbling 
up  her  wash -rag,  which  she  had  entirely  for- 
gotten. "  Go  on,  grandma." 

"  So  a  policeman  took  them  in  charge.  He 
said  the  children  did  n't  seem  a  bit  frightened, 
but  took  everything  very  coolly,  insisting  all 
the  time  that  they  were  on  the  way  to  see 
uncle. 

" '  Who  is  uncle  ? '  asked  the  policeman,  and 
Jean  said :  '  He 's  Uncle  Darling,  and  he  lives 
on  Wide  Stweet.' 

"  '  But  what 's  his  name  ? '  asked  the  police- 
man, thinking  the  children  were  calling  him  by 
their  pet  name. 

" '  Uncle  Darling,'  Jean  kept  repeating. 

" <  We  '11  take  them  to  the  station,  and  report 
at  headquarters,'  said  the  policeman,  finally." 

"  Think  of  mamma's  actually  being  taken  to 
the  lock-up,"  murmured  Cricket. 

"  But  the  children  were  very  determined  little 
things,  and  insisted  that  they  were  going  to 
Wide  Stweet  to  see  uncle.  Presently  a  gentle- 


TWO   LITTLE   KUNAWAYS.  229 

man  passed,  and  asked  the  reason  of  the  commo- 
tion. 

" '  Runaways,'  somebody  answered,  whereupon 
Jean  instantly  piped  up,  '  I  say  I  is  n't  yunning 
away.  I  is  goin'  to  Wide  Stweet  to  see  Uncle 
Darling.' 

"  '  Darling  ? '  said  the  gentleman.  '  I  know 
Darling  of  Broad  Street.  These  little  scraps 
must  have  slipped  away  from  his  house.  Call  a 
cah,  policeman,  and  we  '11  go  and  see.' 

"  So  a  cab  was  called,  and  the  policeman 
mounted  the  box,  and  the  man  got  inside  with 
the  children,  and  off  they  went  to  Broad  Street, 
which  Jean  called  Wide  Stweet. 

"Imagine  your  great -uncle's  feelings,  when 
suddenly  his  office  door  opened,  and  a  gentleman 
appeared  leading  those  two  ridiculous  looking 
little  creatures. 

"  Their  faces  were  grimy,  their  hair  bristling 
with  burs,  their  feet  splashed  with  mud,  their 
little  straight  night-gowns  stained  with  straw- 
berry juice  from  neck  to  hem, —  looking  start- 
lingly  like  blood  at  first  sight,  —  but  in  spite  of 
all,  the  most  beaming  of  smiles,  for  they  had 
had  a  beautiful  time. 

" '  We  has  turn  to  see  'oo,'  said  Margaret,  giv- 


230  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

ing  him  a  very  burry  hug,  for  as  she  threw  her 
arms  around  his  neck,  the  burs  in  her  hair 
caught  in  his  heavy  beard.  Margaret  screamed 
as  her  hair  pulled,  and  they  had  some  trouble  to 
get  her  disentangled. 

"  '  We  has  n't  yunned  away,  Uncle  Darling. 
We  has  came  in  a  carriage,'  said  Jean. 

"  The  gentleman  was  a  business  friend  of  your 
great  -  uncle's.  He  delivered  the  children  over 
into  his  charge,  telling  him  the  story.  Of  course 
he  started  home  with  them  immediately,  knowing 
how  frightened  we  would  be  if  we  got  home  and 
discovered  that  they  were  missing. 

"Fortunately  for  my  peace  of  mind,  we  had 
been  detained  later  than  we  expected  to  be,  and 
so  just  as  we  got  out  of  the  horse-cars  in  front 
of  my  sister's  house,  a  cab  drew  up  at  the  door, 
and  out  got  your  uncle,  and  with  him  two  of  the 
most  disreputable  looking  little  objects  you  ever 
saw.  We  could  hardly  believe  our  eyes. 

" '  We  has  turn  home  aden,'  Margaret  called, 
cheerfully,  as  she  saw  us. 

"  Well  you  can  imagine  how  quickly  we  got 
both  those  children  into  the  house,  and  into  the 
bath-tub,  where  we  satisfied  ourselves  that  they 
were  not  bleeding  to  death. 


TWO    LITTLE    RUNAWAYS.  231 

"  We  had  to  get  the  first  coating  of  dirt  off  be- 
fore we  could  undertake  to  disentangle  those 
dreadful  burs.  My  heart  sank  at  the  sight,  I 
must  say.  I  was  so  proud  of  their  beautiful 
golden  hair.  They  each  had  so  much  of  it,  and 
it  was  as  fine  as  floss ;  but  this  only  made  it  the 
more  difficult  to  get  those  sticky  burs  out.  My 
sister  and  I  each  took  a  child,  and  began  at  the 
burs.  We  worked  at  them  a  long  time,  but 
they  were  so  hopelessly  twisted  in,  and  the  fine 
silky  hair  was  so  wound  up  in  them,  that  at  last 
I  had  to  get  the  scissors,  very  sorrowfully.  Way 
underneath,  close  to  their  necks,  we  found  these 
little  locks,  that  by  some  work  and  careful  snip- 
ping we  managed  to  get  quite  free  of  burs,  so  I 
cut  them  off  to  preserve.  I  simply  cut  the  rest 
off,  in  any  way,  as  best  I  could,  to  do  for  the 
night,  as  it  was  too  late  to  take  them  to  the 
barber's  that  afternoon. 

"  What  dreadful  looking  little  things  they  were 
then !  Did  you  ever  see  a  sheared  sheep  ?  Well, 
they  looked  just  like  that,  for  I  had  snipped  their 
hair  here  and  there,  as  best  I  could,  and  it  stood 
up  in  little,  rough,  jagged,  irregular  tufts  all 
over  their  heads.  I  almost  cried  as  I  looked  at 
them.  '  1  had  thought  I  had  two  pretty  chil- 


232  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

dreii,'  I  said,  mournfully.  Their  heads  looked 
so  comically  small,  and  their  necks  like  little 
pipe-stems. 

"  Of  course  the  barber  clipped  their  hair 
smooth  the  next  day,  but  I  felt  for  a  long  time 
as  if  I  could  not  let  people  see  them.  Their 
heads  were  simply  lost  in  every  hat  and  bonnet 
they  had." 

"  To  think  of  my  mother  having  been  such  a 
little  scallawag"  murmured  Cricket,  in  an  awe- 
struck tone. 

"  Poor  little  things !  They  had  a  sad  time 
the  next  day,  for  their  feet  were  so  swollen  and 
cut  that  they  couldn't  get  on  a  shoe.  I  can't 
imagine  how  they  managed  to  walk  so  far  on 
the  hot  pavements  with  their  tender  little 
feet." 

"  I  know.  The  palms  of  your  feet  get  dread- 
fully hot  and  sting -y  when  you  go  barefoot. 
I  've  tried  it.  Did  they  ever  run  away 
again  ? " 

"  No,  never,  I  believe.  That  one  experience 
was  enough.  And  now,  my  small  maid,  will 
you  go  and  ask  Luke  to  harness  Mopsie  for  you  ? 
I  would  like  to  send  a  note  over  to  Mrs.  Carter, 
if  you  would  please  take  it  for  me." 


TWO    LITTLE    KUNAWAYS.  233 

Cricket  sprang  up  with  a  bound. 

"  Would  you  really  like  me  to  go  ?  Oh,  thank 
you!  I  mean,  of  course,  I  love  to  stay  with 
you,  but  — 

"  Yes,"  said  grandma,  smiling,  "  and  I  enjoy 
my  little  maid's  company  extremely,  but  I  think 
she  had  better  have  some  fresh  air,  this  lovely 
day." 

Cricket  gave  a  hop,  skip,  and  jump. 

"  Thank  you  so  much  for  your  stories,  grand- 
ma, dear.  I  'd  love  to  go  with  your  note.  Oh, 
George  W.,  you  bad,  bad  cat !  You've  gone  and 
snarled  your  Aunt  Zaidee's  wash-rag  all  up  while 
I  was  listening  to  a  beautiful  story  about  your 
Grandma  Ward.  Look,  grandma !  he 's  made 
it  just  as  worse  as  burs !  " 

"  I  '11  put  it  in  order,  while  you  're  gone," 
said  grandma,  taking  the  very  hopeless  looking 
knitting. 

"  Hand  me  my  writing  things,  and  I  '11  have 
the  note  ready  when  you  come  back  for  it. 
Really,  I  shall  be  tempted  to  sprain  my  ankle 
again,  Jean,  if  it  brings  me  such  a  dear  little 
nurse." 

"We've  had  a  lovely  time,  I  think,"  said 
Cricket,  giving  her  dear,  comforting  grandma  a 


234  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

prodigious  hug.  "  Let 's  have  a  knitting  bee 
again,  sometime,  grandma.  Perhaps,  I'd  get 
my  wash-rag  done  this  summer  if  we  did." 


HILDA'S    ARRIVAL 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

HILDA   ARRIVES. 

OP  course,  Cricket  went  with  Auntie  Jean  to 
the  station  on  Friday  afternoon  to  meet  Hilda. 

Hilda  had  never  stayed  at  the  seashore  before, 
for  her  mother  was  very  fond  of  the  mountains, 
and  went  every  summer  to  the  Catskills.  There- 
fore, there  was  everything  to  show  her.  Think 
of  it.  She  had  never  even  been  in  bathing  in 
the  ocean !  This  fact  interested  Cricket  more 
than  anything  else,  and  so  ths  very  first  morn- 
ing she  got  Hilda  up  early  to  get  a  dip  before 
breakfast. 

"  Ouch  ! "  squealed  Hilda,  shrinking  back,  as 
the  cold  waves  touched  her  bare  toes.  "  Why, 
Cricket !  it 's  cold  !  " 

"It  won't  be  as  soon  as  you're  fairly  in," 
urged  Cricket.  "  Just  make  a  dash,  and  go  in  all 
over.  Wade  out  to  the  raft,  and  dive  off.  You 
don't  know  what  fun  it  is  to  go  slap-dash  into 
the  water  and  get  all  gurgled,"  which  was 
Cricket  for  choked. 

"But    I'll    get    all    wet"    objected    Hilda, 


238  CKICKET   AT   THE    SEASHORE. 

"  besides,  it 's  so  cold,  Cricket,"  and  she  drew 
back  further  up  on  the  beach,  and  stood  poking 
her  toes  into  the  warm  sand. 

"  Get  wet  ? "  said  Archie,  politely.  "  No,  you 
would  n't.  We  keep  dry  water  for  any  one 
making  a  first  attempt." 

"  And  if  you  should  get  wet,  what  would  it 
matter  ?  A  bathing  -  suit  is  n't  a  party  dress, 
Hilda,"  urged  Cricket.  "  We  usually  expect  to 
get  wet  when  we  go  into  the  water,  anyway." 

"  Mother,  may  I  go  out  to  swim  ? "  sang 
Archie,  teasingly. 

"Come  on,  Hilda.  Just  go  right  forward, 
ker-chunk,"  and  Cricket  made  a  run  and  threw 
herself  full  length  in  the  shallow  water.  She 
rolled  over  and  over,  and  came  up  sputtering, 
and  laughing.  "  Don't  be  afraid,  you  goosey 
girl." 

"I'm  not  a  goosey  girl.  Suppose  I  should  go 
out  there  and  get  drowned  ?  " 

"  You  can't  drown.  Archie,  and  Will,  and  I, 
all  can  swim,  and  we  '11  save  you.  Will  taught 
me  this  summer.  It 's  lovely,"  and  Cricket  led 
Hilda,  hanging  back  and  protesting,  into  the 
water,  ankle  deep. 

The  truth  really  was,  that  Hilda  did  not  want 


HILDA   ARRIVES.  239 

to  wet  her  pretty  new  bathing  -  suit.  She  was 
such  a  careful,  orderly  little  person,  that  she  did 
not  like  the  idea  of  doing  anything  so  untidy. 
Besides,  Cricket's  dripping,  clinging  skirt  looked 
very  uncomfortable. 

Just  then,  Will  and  Archie,  at  a  private 
signal,  threw  themselves,  splash,  into  the  water 
on  each  side  of  her,  spattering  her  well,  and 
Cricket,  seizing  the  opportunity,  cried  out : 

"  Now,  you're  a  little  wet,  you  must  go  under 
right  away,  or  else  you  '11  take  cold,"  and  Hilda 
yielded  very  unwillingly,  and  protesting  that  she 
was  freezing  to  death.  She  squealed  and  choked 
as  the  boys  ducked  her  under  the  water,  and  she 
really  thought  for  one  dreadful  minute  that  her 
last  hour  had  come. 

" If  this  is  bathing,  I  think  it 's  awful"  she 
said,  with  emphasis,  as  soon  as  she  could  speak. 
The  boys  had  piloted  her  as  far  as  the  swimming 
"raft,  and,  imitating  Cricket's  example, she  climbed 
up  on  it,  trying  to  rub  off  her  wet  face  with  her 
wetter  sleeve,  and  looking  perfectly  miserable. 
"  Archie,  I  've  got  to  have  a  handkerchief,  or 
a  towel,  or  something,  to  dry  my  face.  Please 
bring  me  one." 

The  boys  both  laughed  at  her.     "  Oh,  cer- 


240  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

tainly,"  said  Archie.  "  I  '11  telephone  to  the 
laundry  to  send  down  a  cartload  right*  away. 
We  usually  have  Luke  put  a  supply  of  clean  ones 
on  the  raft,  all  ready  for  us.  He  must  have  for- 
gotten it  this  morning." 

"  You  need  n't  laugh  at  me.  I  do  hate  to  have 
my  face  stay  wet." 

"  Dive  again,  then,"  advised  Will,  setting  the 
example.  "  Come,  Cricket,  race  me  to  the  rock 
and  back  again." 

Cricket  promptly  dived,  but  Hilda  could  not  be 
coaxed  off  her  perch  till  the  others  were  ready 
to  go  in.  So,  altogether,  the  first  bath  was  not 
a  great  success,  and  Hilda  almost  made  up  her 
mind  that  she  would  never  try  it  again,  for  it 
was,  by  no  means,  such  fun  as  it  was  reported  to  be. 
But  over  Sunday  she  had  time  to  forget  her  sen- 
sations, and  when  Cricket  sprang  up  early  Monday 
morning,  as  usual,  Hilda  finally  concluded  she 
would  try  it  again.  To  her  great  surprise — per- 
haps it  was  partly  because  the  first  newness  was 
worn  off  her  bathing-suit — she  found  that  she 
enjoyed  it  a  great  deal  more  than  the  first  time. 
She  actually  waded  around  with  the  water  nearly 
up  to  her  shoulders,  and  half  learned  to  float, 
with  Will  supporting  her.  The  next  morning 


HILDA  ARRIVES.  241 

completed  the  lesson,  and  she  began  to  feel  very 
independent. 

On  Monday  morning  Auntie  Jean  drove  the 
/our  girls  over  to  Plymouth,  to  see  the  sights 
there.  Hilda  was  full  of  eagerness  and  curiosity 
to  see  the  famous  Rock  on  which  the  Pilgrim 
Fathers  landed. 

"  What !  that  little  thing  ?  "  she  exclaimed,  in 
surprise  and  disgust,  when  a  small  affair  was 
pointed  out  to  her,  a  rock  not  even  very  near  the 
water,  but  well  up  on  the  land,  with  a  stone  can- 
opy over  it.  "  How  could  they  land  on  that  little 
thing?" 

"Archie  says  they  came  up  on  stilts,"  said 
Cricket.  "  Of  course  they  had  to  land  on  Plym- 
outh Rock,  'cause  the  histories  said  they  must." 

"  I  never  believed  that,"  said  literal  Edna. 
"  How  could  they  get  the  stilts  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Edna ! "  cried  Eunice,  while  the  rest 
laughed. 

"  Then  they  cut  a  piece  off,  and  carried  it  up 
in  front  of  Pilgrim  Hall,  and  put  it  in  front  of  it, 
and  built  a  railing  round  it,  the  first  thing  they 
did,"  went  on  Cricket. 

"  But  there  was  n't  any  Pilgrim  Hall,  then," 
persisted  Edna. 


242  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

"  Edna,  you  're  a  goose,"  said  Eunice.  "  Now 
auntie,  can  we  go  and  see  the  Statue  of  Faith, 
and  the  Pilgrim  Hall,  and  the  burying-ground, 
and  all  ?  " 

They  had  a  merry  day  in  the  quaint  old  town, 
with  all  its  relics  and  curiosities.  They  went  all 
over  Pilgrim  Hall,  and  saw  the  famous  sword  of 
Captain  Myles  Standish,  the  cradle  of  Peregrine 
White, — the  little  baby  who  was  born  at  sea  on 
that  famous  voyage,  —  and  hosts  of  other  inter- 
esting things. 

Then  they  did  a  little  shopping,  and  bought 
some  candy  to  eat  on  the  way  home.  This  was 
always  part  of  the  fun. 

"When  will  they  have  Captain  Myles  Stan- 
dish's  statue  up  ? "  asked  Eunice,  with  her  mouth 
full  of  caramels,  as  they  passed  Captain's  Hill. 

"  Very  soon,  I  believe,  now.  The  pedestal  is 
nearly  done,  and  the  statue  is  already  there." 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  nodded  Cricket.  "  We  walked 
over  there  one  day  last  week.  Hilda,  the  statue 
is  there  waiting,  and  it's  all  boxed  up  like  a 
chicken-coop.  You  can  see  the  statue  right  be- 
tween the  slats.  And,  oh,  auntie !  Archie  made 
such  a  funny  joke.  Will  had  just  asked  Eunice 
why  it  would  be  the  highest  statue  in  the  world, 


HILDA   ARRIVES.  243 

but  she  knew  the  answer  —  'cause  it's  Myles 
above  the  sea,  of  course.  Then  Archie  stooped 
over  and  poked  a  stick  through  the  slats,  and 
said :  '  Let 's  tickle  his  feet  and  see  if  he  smiles.' 
Was  n't  that  good  ? " 

"  I  don't  see  a  bit  of  sense  to  it,"  declared 
Edna,  "  and  I  did  n't  then.  Eunice  and  Cricket 
just  laughed  and  laughed,  mamma.  Of  course  a 
statue  could  n't  smile." 

"  Edna,  you  would  n't  see  a  joke  if  one  walked 
up  and  bit  you,"  said  Eunice.  "  Archie  said : 
'Let's  tickle  his  feet  and  see  if  he's-Myles.' 
Don't  you  see  ?  " 

"  If  he  's  Myles.  If  he  smiles.  Oh,  yes ! " 
cried  Edna,  looking  really  excited.  "  I  see ! 
you  can  take  it  in  two  ways." 

"  Edna,  it 's  easy  to  see  your  great  -  grand- 
father was  a  Scotchman,"  said  Mrs.  Somers, 
when  she  could  speak  for  laughing  at  her  very 
practical  little  daughter. 

"  Why,  I  don't  see  what  that  has  to  do  with  it. 
People  laugh  at  such  silly  things,  mamma.  Eu- 
nice and  Cricket  just  double  up  over  some  things 
that  are  too  stupid  for  anything." 

"  That 's  your  misfortune,  dear.  If  there  was 
a  School  of  Jokes  I  should  certainly  send  you  to 
it." 


244  CRICKET   AT   THE    SEASHORE. 

"  Well,  for  instance,"  went  on  Edna,  "  I  '11 
leave  it  to  Hilda  if  this  was  n't  silly.  That  day 
when  we  all  walked  over  to  Captain's  Hill,  we  all 
sat  down  on  some  stones  to  rest.  Nobody  hap- 
pened to  be  saying  anything  just  then,  and 
Cricket  began  to  sing.  Archie  listened  a  mo- 
ment, then  he  jumped  up  and  started  off  on  a 
run,  as  fast  as  he  could  go,  all  around  the  top  of 
the  hill,  and  came  back  all  puffing  and  panting, 
and  he  said :  '  Cricket,  I  've  run  all  around  the 
hill,  and  I  can't  catch  that  tune.'  The  girls 
thought  it  was  awfully  funny ;  what,  do  you 
think  it  was  funny,  too  ?  "  for  Hilda  went  off  in 
a  peal  of  laughter,  as  well  as  auntie. 

"  Of  course,"  went  on  Edna,  "  he  could  n't 
tell  the  tune  if  he  did  n't  stay  and  listen  to  it ; 
and,  perhaps,  he  would  n't  have  known  then," 
she  added,  thoughtfully. 

Cricket  grew  very  red,  as  she  always  did  when 
any  slighting  allusion  was  made  to  her  singing. 

"  Archie  is  a  very  funny  boy,  I  think,"  she 
remarked  quickly,  to  turn  the  attention  of  the 
others  from  this  sore  subject.  "  He  is  n't  as  nice 
as  Will,  but  he 's  generally  funnier.  He  gets  so 
mad  when  Edna  says,  '  What's  the  sense  to 
that  ? '  when  he  makes  a  joke." 


HILDA   ARKIVES.  245 

"Like  yesterday,  Mrs.  Somers,"  said  Hilda, 
"  when  Archie  asked  us  a  conundrum, '  How  does 
a  sculptor  die  ? '  do  you  know  it  ?  The  answer 
is, '  He  makes  faces  and  busts.'  A'nd  he  got  so 
mad  when  Edna  only  told  him  that  busts  was  n't 
correct.  He  ought  to  say, '  He  makes  faces  and 
bursts. ' ' 

"  Well,  he  ought,  ought  n't  he,  mamma  ?  No- 
body says  busts." 

"  Edna,  you  're  hopeless,"  answered  her 
mother.  "  And  here  we  are  at  home  again." 

At  the  supper-table  Will  announced  that  he 
and  Archie  and  the  Gentle  Jane  were  all  ready 
to  take  a  sailing  party  to  the  Gurnet  Lights  the 
next  day,  if  the  party  so  desired.  By  the  clap- 
ping of  hands  it  was  judged  that  the  party  did 
so  desire. 

"  But  about  grandma  ? "  asked  Mrs.  Somers, 
when  she  could  make  herself  heard.  "  I  can't 
go  and  leave  her  for  all  day  when  she  is  so  help- 
less." 

Cricket  coloured  at  the  allusion,  but  she  in- 
stantly said,  bravely : 

"  If  you  will  go  with  the  others,  auntie,  I  '11 
stay  with  grandma." 

"If  you  stay,  Cricket,  I'll  stay,  too,"  said 
Hilda,  quickly. 


246  CKICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

"  But  you  can't,  Hilda.  You  're  the  party,  don't 
you  see  ?  We  've  all  been  to  the  Gurnet,  and 
we  're  going  to  get  up  this  picnic  on  purpose  for 
you.  You  've  got  to  go." 

"  Yes,  you  've  got  to  go,"  struck  in  Archie. 
"  It 's  like  the  man  who  was  on  his  way  to  be 
executed.  He  saw  people  all  running  along  the 
street,  and  he  called  out  to  some  one, '  No  hurry, 
friend.  It  can't  go  on  till  I  get  there.  I'm 
the  man  to  be  hung.'  " 

"  Then,  since  Hilda  is  the  man  to  be  hung 
she'll  have  to  go.  That's  certain.  And  be- 
sides, children,  you  can't  go  to-morrow,  for  we 
must  give  cook  a  day's  notice  if  she  is  to  pro- 
vide luncheon  enough  to  last  you  entirely  hollow 
young  people  for  a  whole  day.  Then  I'll  see 
Mrs.  Emmons,  and  perhaps  she  will  come  and 
spend  the  day  with  grandma  on  Wednesday,  and 
we  '11  set  sail  then  for  the  Gurnet  Lights.  Will 
that  do  ?  I  '11  go  over  directly  after  supper  and 
see  her,  so  you  can  put  your  minds  at  rest." 

Mrs.  Emmons  would  be  delighted  to  come  and 
spend  the  day  with  grandma,  it  proved,  so  the 
plans  for  Wednesday  instantly  began,  as  if  they 
did  not  have  a  whole  day  before  them.  The 
hour  of  the  start  must  be  settled  at  once.  As 


HILDA   ARRIVES.  247 

it  would  be  low  tide  at  eleven,  they  must  be  off 
at  eight  in  the  morning,  to  get  well  over  the 
mud -flats  before  they  were  exposed.  They 
would  go  outside  the  point  for  a  little  cruise, 
if  it  was  not  too  rough,  and  then  come  back  and 
land  at  the  Gurnet,  and  show  all  the  sights 
there  to  Hilda,  and  eat  their  luncheon  either 
before  or  after,  as  they  liked. 

The  boys  were  both  good  sailors,  and  under- 
stood a  boat  perfectly.  Their  grandfather 
Maxwell  had  trained  them  well  from  the  time 
they  were  wee  bits  of  boys,  and  even  before  his 
death,  three  years  before,  he  had  trusted  them 
to  go  out  alone. 

But  the  next  day  the  excitement  began  in 
earnest,  and  there  was  hurrying  to  and  fro,  and 
consultations  over  what  to  take,  and  what  to 
wear,  and  what  to  do,  and  proposals  for  this, 
and  objections  to  that,  till  the  whole  house  was 
in  a  whirl. 

"  Children,  you  could  n't  make  more  prepara- 
tion if  you  were  going  to  Europe,"  cried  dis- 
tracted auntie,  finally,  as  all  the  girls  burst  into 
her  room  for  the  fortieth  time,  as  she  was  trying 
to  take  a  nap  that  afternoon.  "  I  don't  know 
where  your  sketch  -  book  is,  Edna.  Yes,  wear 


248  CKICKET   AT    THE    SEASHOKE. 

your  sailor  caps.  Of  course  you  '11  wear  your 
sailor  suits,  and  not  ginghams.  Yours  is  torn, 
Edna?  Then,  my  dear,  please  go  and  mend 
it  directly.  Your  fishing  -  tackle  is  in  the 
lobby,  by  the  side  kitchen  door,  Cricket.  You 
left  it  in  Billy's  room,  and  he  brought  it  over. 
Yes,  I  told  cook  to  make  some  chocolate  cake, 
Eunice.  Now  scamper,  every  one  of  you.  I  'm 
going  to  lock  my  door  now,  and  don't  anybody 
dare  to  come  and  disturb  for  an  hour." 

But  within  five  minutes  a  small  voice  called 
through  the  keyhole,  imploringly  : 

"  'Scuse  me,  auntie  dear,  but  could  n't  we  take 
George  W.  ?  he 's  just  begging  to  go,  and  I 
know  he'll  be  good." 

"  Scat ! "  cried  auntie,  and  Cricket  scatted. 

"  Sha'  n't  we  take  some  books,  in  case  we  get 
becalmed  ?  "  suggested  Eunice,  as  they  all  finally 
rested  on  the  piazza,  and  tried  to  think  of  some- 
thing else  to  get  ready. 

"  Of  course.  Sometimes  we  are  becalmed  for 
an  hour,  Hilda,  and  it 's  awfully  stupid." 

"I'll  take  'Jack  and  Jill,'"  said  Cricket. 
"  And,  oh,  girls,  let 's  take  our  blank  books  and 
pencils,  so  we  can  write  on  our  stories  for  the 
'  Echo '  if  we  want  to." 


HILDA   AKEIVES.  249 

"  I  won't,  and  that 's  flat ! "  said  Edna,  de- 
cidedly. "  Going  on  a  picnic  for  fun,  and 
writing  stories !  What  do  you  think  I  'm  made 
of,  Cricket  ? " 

"  Sugar  and  spice,  and  all  that 's  nice,"  re- 
turned Cricket,  cheerfully.  "  Did  I  tell  you, 
girls,  that  Hilda  is  going  to  write  a  story  for 
our  next  '  Echo  ? '  '  Our  estinguished  contribu- 
tor, Miss  Hilda  Mason ! '  Does  n't  that  sound 
fine  ?  And  she  's  written  some  poetry,  too ! 
Is  n't  she  lovely  ?  "  and  Cricket  hugged  Hilda  in 
a  sudden  burst  of  affection. 

"  This  is  the  first  poetry  I  ever  wrote,"  said 
Hilda,  trying  not  to  look  conscious. 

"  And  it 's  lovely !  "  said  Cricket,  approvingly. 
"  Read  it  to  the  girls,  please,  Hilda."  And  Hilda, 
waiting  for  a  little  urging,  though  she  was  really 
dying  to  read  it,  produced  her  "  poem,"  and  read  : 

"  It  was  Christmas  eve,  now  remember. 

And  out  in  the  cold  world  alone, 
A  cold  night,  too,  in  December, 
There  wandered  a  poor  little  one. 

"  Waiting  in  sorrow  and  weeping, 
Waiting  out  there  in  the  cold, 
Why  should  she  have  cause  to  sorrow? 
Why,  her  mother  lay  there  in  the  mould. 


250  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

"  And  where  was  the  child's  own  father  ? 

Was  he  in  the  cold  ground,  too  ? 
No,  her  father  was  in  the  billiard-room. 
I  pity  the  poor  child,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  That 's  too  sweet  for  anything,  Hilda !  All 
you  girls  are  clever  but  me,"  sighed  Edna,  half 
enviously. 

"  I'  ve  just  decided  that  I  '11  be  a  poetess  like 
Mrs.  Browning,  when  I  grow  up,"  said  Hilda, 
calmly.  "  I  never  tried  writing  poetry  before, 
but  it 's  just  as  easy.  It  would  be  very  inter- 
esting to  be  a  poetess,"  added  Hilda,  who  was 
given  to  day-dreams,  in  which  she  was  always 
famous. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

A  SAILING  PARTY. 

IT  was  not  long  after  dawn,  early  as  that  was, 
when  the  younger  fry  were  all  astir  in  the  Max- 
well household.  The  boys  were  up  to  see  that 
everything  was  in  order  about  the  boat,  and  to 
transport  the  necessary  number  of  cushions  and 
rugs  for  the  comfort  of  their  passengers.  Cricket 
dragged  reluctant  Hilda,  who  dearly  loved  her 
morning  snooze,  out  of  bed  almost  as  early, 
though  Eunice  and  Edna  lazily  turned  over  for 
another  scrap  of  a  nap.  Still,  they  were  not 
long  able  to  withstand  the  general  buzz  of  excite- 
ment, and  long  before  seven  they  also  were  up 
and  about,  gathering  together  their  various  be- 
longings. Cook  had  the  generous  luncheon- 
baskets  all  packed,  with  provision  sufficient  for 
a  small  regiment.  Before  breakfast  everything 
was  on  board,  the  luncheon  was  packed  away  in 
the  little  locker,  and  cushions  and  extra  wrap- 
pings were  all  in  place. 

Breakfast  was  a  hasty  ceremony,  for  the  boys 


252  CRICKET   AT   THE    SEASHORE. 

were  eagerly  watching  the  time,  and  tide,  and 
breeze,  and  so  would  hardly  give  the  rest  time  to 
eat.  It  was  not  quite  eight  when  they  mustered 
their  party  on  the  dock.  At  the  last  moment 
Cricket  appeared  with  a  small  bundle,  carefully 
wrapped  in  newspaper,  the  contents  of  which  she 
absolutely  refused  to  reveal. 

"  You  '11  know  by  and  by,"  was  all  she  would 
say, "  and  you  need  n't  try  to  solve  into  the  mys- 
tery now." 

The  breeze  favoured  the  start,  and  the  swel- 
ling sails  swept  the  Gentle  Jane  along  at  a 
scudding  pace.  Hilda,  who  had  never  been  sail- 
ing before,  was  delighted  at  the  swift  motion. 
The  sky  was  as  blue  as  blue  could  be,  with  flecks 
of  white  clouds  all  over  it,  the  water  was  spark- 
ling and  clear,  and  dashed  with  a  delightful  little 
swish  against  the  bow. 

"  But  what  do  you  do  if  the  breeze  stops  ? "  she 
asked. 

"  We  stop,  too,"  said  Archie,  "  unless  some- 
body gets  out  and  drags  the  boat  along." 

"  Really  ?  could  any  one  drag  this  heavy  boat 
along  ?  would  they  swim  ?  oh,  you  're  teasing 
me!" 

"  Yes,  of  course  he 's  teasing  you,"  said  Edna ; 


A   SAILING   PARTY.  253 

"  we  have  to  row,  if  the  breeze  stops.  Do  you 
see  these  long  oars  ?  Why,  boys !  you  have  n't 
brought  but  one  oar !  " 

"  Yes,  we  have,"  answered  the  boys  in  chorus. 
Then  they  looked  at  where  the  oars  should  be, 
and  then  at  each  other.  "  I  thought  you  brought 
the  other  oar,"  said  Archie. 

"  And  I  thought  you  did,"  said  Will.  "  Never 
mind.  It  looks  as  if  we  'd  have  a  good  breeze 
all  day." 

"  But  will  the  breeze  turn  for  you  to  come 
home  again  ? "  asked  Hilda.  "  For  if  the  breeze 
blows  us  out,  how  can  it  blow  us  back  again  ? " 

"  Tack,  young  woman,  tack,  but  not  with  a 
hammer  or  nails.  You  '11  see,  coming  home,  if 
this  breeze  holds  out." 

"  I  '11  bet  you  anything  that  the  breeze  won't 
hold,  because  you've  forgotten  the  other  oar," 
said  Edna. 

"  Then  we  '11  put  Cricket  up  in  the  bow,  to 
whistle  up  a  breeze.  That  always  brings  it." 

"  It 's  so  funny  I  can't  whistle,  when  I  'd  love 
to,  so,"  said  Cricket,  meditatively,  for  whistling 
was  one  boyish  accomplishment  which  she  could 
not  manage. 

"You    needn't   wish   to,"    said    Edna,   who, 


254  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

strange  to  say,  could  whistle  like  a  blackbird. 
"  You  would  only  have  people  always  telling 
you,  it  is  not  ladylike.  I  don't  know  I  'm 
whistling  half  the  time  when  mamma  tells  me 
not  to.  It  just  whistles  itself." 

"  Why  don't  I  whistle  right  ? "  asked  Cricket, 
dolefully,  for  the  hundredth  time.  "I  pucker 
my  lips  up  so  —  and  I  blow  —  so  —  and  I  can 
give  one  straight  whistle,  but  I  can't  make  it  go 
up  and  down.  It  does  n't  twinkle  as  Edna's 
does." 

Edna  broke  out  into  a  perfect  bird  song  of 
twittering  and  chirping  and  trilling. 

"  There,  I  just  enjoyed  that ! "  she  said,  at 
last,  stopping  breathlessly.  "  When  I  'm  way 
out  at  sea,  mamma  lets  me  whistle  all  I  like." 

"  Is  n't  it  getting  near  luncheon-time,  auntie  ?" 
asked  Eunice.  "  I  'm  dreadfully  hungry." 

"  Luncheon-time,  dear  child !  It 's  only  nine 
o'clock,"  said  auntie,  consulting  her  watch. 

"  Don't  get  mixed  up  in  the  time  as  you  did 
last  summer,  when  you  went  blackberrying  and 
came  home  at  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning  and 
thought  it  was  six  at  night.  Hard-a-lee  ! "  as 
the  boom  swung  around  and  they  changed  their 
course.  Hilda,  not  realizing  what  this  meant, 


A   SAILING   PARTJ.  255 

did  not  duck  her  head  in  time,  and  consequently 
got  a  smart  rap.  Her  hat  was  knocked  off,  but, 
being  Hilda's,  it  did  not  go  in  the  water.  She 
never  had  any  accidents. 

"  You  must  duck,  instanter,  when  you  hear 
me  call,"  said  Will.  "  Sometimes  the  boom  has 
to  go  around  very  suddenly,  and  you  have  to 
look  out  for  yourselves.  Archie,  you  steer  now 
for  a  while,"  and  Archie  took  the  helm. 

The  little  sailboat  skimmed  along  over  the 
glittering  water,  and  now  they  were  well  past 
Clark's  Island.  As  they  came  near  the  Gurnet 
lights  they  decided  that  they  would  touch  there 
first,  and  show  Hilda  the  lighthouse,  and  then 
they  could  take  as  much  time  as  they  liked  for 
their  cruise  outside. 

The  tide  was  out,  and  they  could  not  get  the 
little  boat  up  near  enough  .the  shore  to  land  dry- 
shod.  So  Will  and  Archie,  having  anchored 
the  boat,  pulled  off  shoes  and  stockings,  rolled 
up  their  trousers,  and  jumped  overboard. 

"  What  are  they  going  to  do  ?  "  asked  Hilda, 
watching  with  much  interest  these  preparations, 
which  the  rest  seemed  to  take  as  a  matter  of 
course. 

"  They  will  carry  us  ashore,  because  we  don't 


256  CKICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

want  to  get  our  feet  wet,"  said  Edna.  "  They 
often  do." 

"  Garry  us !  why,  I  'd  be  scared  to  death !  " 
exclaimed  Hilda.  "Are  you  really  going  to  let 
them  take  you,  Mrs.  Somers  ?  " 

"  Yes,  indeed,  and  they  know  just  how  to 
manage,"  said  Mrs.  Somers.  "  I  '11  go  now,  chil- 
dren, so  they  can  take  the  heaviest  weight  first." 

Will  and  Archie,  knee  deep  in  water,  stood  up 
by  the  boat,  and  Will  easily  lifted  his  mother 
from  the  side  of  the  boat,  where  she  was  stand- 
ing. Then  Archie  got  hold  of  her  also,  in  some 
mysterious  way,  and,  in  a  moment,  she  was 
safely  sitting  on  a  "  lady's  chair,"  made  by  the 
boys'  clasped  hands.  They  went  carefully  up 
over  the  rocks  and  stones,  and  deposited  her, 
dry-shod.  Then  they  came  back  for  the  girls. 

"  I  can  take  these  kids  better  alone,  Arch," 
said  Will,  taking  Eunice  like  a  baby. 

"  I  '11  take  Cricket,"  said  Archie. 

"  No,  you  won't,  sir,  not  one  step,"  said  that 
young  lady,  sitting  down,  resolutely.  "  I  know 
you.  I  'd  find  myself  in  a  crab  hole  in  about  a 
minute.  I  '11  wait  for  Will." 

"  Come  on,  Hilda,  then.  That 's  a  base  libel, 
you  know." 


A   SAILING   PARTY.  257 

But  it  ended  by  Will's  carrying  them  all  in. 

"  There  are  drawbacks  to  being  so  popular," 
said  Will,  setting  down  Edna,  who  was  the  last, 
and  wiping  his  face. 

A  lighthouse  is  always  an  interesting  place  to 
visit,  and  many  times  as  the  Somers  children 
had  been  there,  they  always  enjoyed  the  trip. 
Cricket  and  Eunice  had  never  been  there  but 
three  or  four  times  before.  The  good-natured 
keeper  took  them  all  over  and  showed  them 
everything,  from  the  twin-lights  at  the  top  to  the 
life-boats,  for  Hilda's  benefit. 

When  they  had  seen  everything  that  was  to 
be  seen  they  went  down  to  the  shore  again,  to 
reembark.  It  was  easier  getting  back,  for  the 
boys  made  a  lady's  chair  for  each  passenger, 
and  together  carried  her  safely  over  the  shallows, 
where  the  water  was  beginning  to  rise.  They 
sailed  outside  the  bar  for  a  short  distance,  and 
then  it  was  time  to  eat  their  luncheon. 

The  luncheon  was  a  royal  banquet  in  point  of 
plenty  and  variety,  for  Mrs.  Maxwell's  old  cook 
knew,  by  long  experience,  just  what  sort  of  ap- 
petites the  salt  air  made,  and  there  were  seven 
hungry  mouths  to  feed.  They  feasted  and 
chattered,  until  Auntie  Jean  suddenly  an- 


258  CRICKET   AT   THE    SEASHORE. 

uounced  that  it  was  time  to  turn  about,  and 
go  in. 

"  It 's  too  early,"  said  Edna. 

"  Not  with  this  wind,"  said  her  mother.  "  We  '11 
have  to  tack  all  the  way,  and  I  want  to  get  in 
by  five  or  six." 

"  It 's  such  fun,"  sighed  Cricket.  "  I  hate  to 
go  in.  I  love  the  water  out  here,  when  it 's  all 
rough  and  rock-y.  I'd  like  to  keep  right  on 
to  Cape  Cod."  She  stood  in  the  bow  of  the 
boat,  with  one  arm  around  the  mast  —  it  was  a 
catboat  —  with  the  breeze  fluttering  her  curly 
hair  about,  and  her  dress  blowing  back  stiffly. 

"  Cricket,  please  don't  stand  there  any  longer," 
called  Auntie  Jean.  "  You  make  me  nervous. 
You  '11  be  overboard  in  a  minute,  I  know." 

"  No,  I  won't,  auntie,  I  've  stood  here  heaps 
of  times.  I  do  love  to  feel  the  wind  on  my 
face.  It  makes  one  feel  so  gay." 

"No,  come  back,  please,  dear.  I  feel  safer 
with  all  my  birds  under  my  wings,"  answered 
auntie,  for  she  knew  Cricket  of  old. 

Cricket  turned,  reluctantly,  and  at  the  same 
moment  Will  called  "  Hard-a-lee !  "  as  the  boom 
swung  over,  and  the  boat  obeyed  her  helm,  and 
came  round.  Cricket  was  still  facing  outward, 


A   SAILING  PARTY.  259 

and,  as  the  boat  keeled,  she  suddenly  lost  her 
balance,  grasped  at  the  mast  which  she  had  let 
go,  missed  it,  and  disappeared  over  the  bows 
with  a  great  splash.  The  boat  swung  away 
from  her,  fortunately,  otherwise  she  might  have 
been  seriously  hurt.  , 

"  Take  the  helm,  Archie,"  shouted  Will,  as  he 
kre  off  his  shoes,  and  was  over  after  her  in  a 
twinkling.  Cricket  rose  to  the  surface,  and 
struck  out  bravely,  but  her  clothes  hampered 
her,  and  she  could  do  little  more  than  keep  her- 
self up.  In  a  few  moments  Will  reached  her, 
and  Archie  brought  the  boat  around,  so  there 
were  but  a  few  strokes  to  swim  before  they 
could  reach  the  oar  which  Edna  and  Eunice  had 
seized  and  held  out.  By  this  they  drew  them- 
selves up  to  the  gunwale  of  the  boat. 

It  all  passed  so  quickly  that  in  five  minutes 
from  the  time  when  Auntie  Jean  had  first 
spoken  to  Cricket,  the  dripping  adventurers  were 
in  the  boat  again.  There  had  been  no  real 
danger,  for  Cricket  could  easily  have  kept  her- 
self up  till  one  of  the  boys  could  come  to  her, 
but  the  children  felt  very  much  excited,  for  all 
that,  over  the  "  rescue,"  as  they  called  it. 

In  the  small  quarters  of  a  little  catboat,  it  is 


260  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

not  exactly  pleasant  to  have  two  dripping  indi- 
viduals as  members  of  the  crew,  and  the  others 
began  to  draw  themselves,  feet  and  all,  up  on  to 
the  seat. 

"  Now,  water-babies,"  began  Auntie  Jean,  but 
Archie  interrupted  : 

"  Do  pitch  them  out  again,  and  let  them  swim 
home.  They  '11  swamp  the  boat  directly.  Here, 
bail  out,  Edna,"  tossing  her  the  sponge,  which 
she  caught  and  threw  at  Cricket,  saying, "  I  can't 
get  down  in  all  that  water.  Your  feet  are  wet, 
already,  Cricket." 

"  It 's  too  bad,"  said  Cricket,  meekly.  "  Could  n't 
you  really  tie  a  rope  around  me,  auntie,  and  drag 
me  along  ?  I  would  n't  mind.  I  could  n't  swim 
all  the  way  in,  for  I  'd  get  tired,  but  I  would  n't 
mind  being  tied  on  behind." 

"You're  pretty  bad,  but  we  won't  make  a 
tow  of  you  this  time,"  said  auntie,  merrily. 
"I  can't  say  what  I'll  do  next  time,  though. 
Now  we  must  get  off  those  wet  clothes,  and 
wring  them  out,  and  hang  them  up  to  dry.  You 
can  put  on  your  mackintosh." 

Mackintoshes  and  shawls  always  formed  part 
of  the  equipment  of  an  all  day's  sail,  since  at 
at  any  time  a  squall  might  come  up.  Edna  and 


A   SAILING   PAKTY.  261 

Eunice  and  Hilda  held  up  a  long  shawl  in  a  tri- 
angular fence  around  Cricket,  while  she  got  out 
of  most  of  her  clothes.  Auntie  rubbed  her  dry, 
and  wrung  out  what  she  still  had  on,  as  best 
she  could  with  another  shawl,  and  then  she  put 
on  her  mackintosh.  Will  had  also  been  getting 
rid  of  some  of  the  superfluous  water,  but  a  boy's 
sailing  dress  is  so  beautifully  simple  that  a  wet- 
ting more  or  less  does  not  matter.  He  took  off 
his  stockings,  and  hung  them  over  the  boom  to 
dry,  and  presently  Cricket's  dress  and  petticoats 
fluttered  beside  them. 

"  Regular  canal-boat  style.  Family  wash  dry- 
ing on  deck,"  said  Archie,  and  then  he  hooted 
at  Cricket  as  she  appeared  from  behind  the 
shawl.  A  little  figure  draped  in  a  mackintosh 
is  not  a  model  for  an  artist. 

"  That 's  very  becoming,  young  one,"  said 
Archie.  "  You  look  as  fat  as  a  match." 

"  A  match  for  you,  then,"  returned  Cricket, 
serenely,  for  Archie  had  the  proportions  of  a 
hairpin. 

"  I  want  to  call  a  meeting  of  the  Echo  Club, 
immediately,"  said  Will,  standing  up,  "  and  I 
put  the  motion  as  president  pro  tern;  that  on 
any  expedition  in  the  future,  of  which  Miss  Jean 


262  CRICKET   AT   THE    SEASHORE. 

Ward,  usually  called  Cricket,  is  a  member,  that  a 
wringing-machine  be  furnished  and  carried,  at 
the  club's  expense." 

"  Who  would  you  have  to  poke  fun  at,  if  you 
did  n't  have  me  ?  "  demanded  Cricket,  quite  un- 
disturbed. "  But  I  '11  second  the  motion  about 
the  wringing-machine.  I  wonder  why  you  did  n't 
get  as  wet  as  I  did  ?  " 

Another  shout  at  this. 

"I  only  got  a  little  damp  on  the  outside," 
said  Will,  politely.  "  I  '11  soon  evaporate." 

"  You  need  n't  all  laugh,"  said  Cricket,  defen- 
sively. "  I  was  in  the  water  longer  than  he 
was,  and  so  I  did  n't  suppose  he  'd  had  time  to 
get  as  wet  through." 

"  I  did  n't,"  said  Will,  "  only  as  far  as  my 
skin.  I  'm  not  porous." 

They  had  been  tacking  all  the  time,  back  and 
forth,  much  to  Hilda's  amazement,  who  could 
not  understand  how  that  crab-like  motion  would 
ever  bring  them  home.  They  were  now  coming 
past  the  Gurnet  Lights. 

"  We  can  put  in  there,  mother,  if  you  like," 
suggested  Archie,  "  and  get  the  mermaid  dried 
off,  if  you  think  best." 

"  It's  really  not  necessary.    Cricket  is  rubbed 


A   SAILING   PARTY.  263 

pretty  dry,  and  one  rarely  takes  cold  in  sea- 
water.  Keep  down  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat, 
Cricket,  out  of  the  breeze  as  much  as  you  can." 

"  I  'm  just  thinking  to  myself,"  said  Will, 
"  that  in  five  minutes  you  '11  be  hunting  for  a 
breeze  to  sit  in.  It 's  certainly  dying  down." 

"  Will,  if  you  becalm  us  out  here  in  this 
broiling  sun  when  you  've  forgotten  to  bring  the 
other  oar  to  row  with,  I  '11  never  forgive  you," 
exclaimed  Edna. 

"  I  have  n't  the  least  desire  to  do  it,  my  lady," 
said  Will,  scanning  the  now  cloudless  sky,  "  but 
I  think  it 's  what  we  're  in  for.  Have  you  any- 
thing left  to  eat  in  case  we  make  a  night  of  it, 
mother  ?  " 

"A  night  of  it?"  cried  Hilda,  in  dismay. 
"  Where  would  we  sleep  ? " 

"  All  curled  up  in  little  bundles  in  the  bottom 
of  the  boat,"  cut  in  Archie.  "It's  not  bad. 
Only  it  takes  some  time  next  day  to  get  the 
kinks  out  of  your  legs." 

"  He's  teasing  you,  my  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Somers. 
"  We  won't  be  here  all  night,  but  it  often  hap- 
pens that  we  are  becalmed  for  several  hours, 
and  I  really  don't  enjoy  the  prospect.  Come, 
Will,  whistle  up  the  breeze." 


264  CKICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE 

"  It 's  Cricket  that  does  that,"  said  Archie  ; 
"  she  always  scares  the  wind  into  coming  up 
immediately.  There's  a  puff  now.  The  very 
mention  of  Cricket's  whistling  does  the  busi- 
ness." 

But  the  wind  only  freshened  for  a  moment, 
then  died  down,  and  in  ten  minutes  more  they 
lay  motionless  on  a  glassy  sea. 

"Now  here  we'll  stay,"  said  Edna  with  a 
sigh,  "  until  the  sea-breeze  springs  up  this  after- 
noon at  four  or  five.  What  time  is  it  now? 
Two  o'clock !  Think  of  it !  " 

"  The  tide  takes  us  along  a  little,"  said  Mrs. 
Somers.  "If  we  only  had  the  other  oar 
now!" 

"  Scull,"  suggested  Edna. 

"  Too  much  work,"  said  Archie  ;  but,  never- 
theless, he  adjusted  the  oar  at  the  stern,  and 
sculled  a  little.  The  boat  moved  very  slowly 
forward.  - 

"  If  we  go  six  feet  in  an  hour,  how  long  will 
it  take  us  to  go  seven  miles  ? "  propounded 
Eunice. 

"  Those  questions  are  too  difficult  to  be  an- 
swered off-hand,"  said  Will,  sculling  in  his  turn. 
"  Sounds  like  Alice  in  Wonderland.  If  two  boys 


A   SAILING   PARTY.  265 

eat  a  turkey  at  Thanksgiving,  how  many  girls 
will  eat  a  plum-pudding  at  Christmas  ?  " 

"  I  know  a  better  one  than  that,"  put  in  Archie. 
"  Two  men  set  out  simultaneously,  at  different 
times,  on  a  journey,  both  being  unable  to  travel. 
For  two  hours  they  kept  ahead  of  each  other, 
and  then  a  snow-storm  came  up,  and  they  both 
lost  their  way.  Query :  Which  got  there 
first?" 

"  How  silly !  "  said  Edna.  "  How  could  they 
set  out  simultaneously,  at  different  times, 
mamma  ?  " 

"That's  the  question  for  your  deep  brain, 
Miss  Wiseacre,"  said  Archie.  "  Perhaps  you  're 
equal  to  this.  If  three  men  work  all  day  on  a 
fertile  farm,  what  is  the  logarithm  ?  " 

"  The  lager -in -'em  ?"  echoed  Cricket.  "  De- 
pends on  how  much  they  drank." 

Whereupon  Mrs.  Somers  and  the  boys  laughed 
themselves  sore,  and  the  girls  clamoured  to  know 
the  joke. 

"  Cricket 's  a  born  joke,"  said  Will,  resuming 
his-  sculling.  "  You  '11  be  the  death  of  me,  young 
one." 

"  I  always  see  jokes  when  there  are  any  to 
see,"  Cricket  answered,  with  dignity.  "You 


266  CKICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

know  I  do,  Mr.  Will.  I  'm  not  just  as  worse  as 
Edna." 

"  Just  as  bad,  you  mean,"  retorted  Edna. 

"  Let 's  play  some  games,  children,"  Mrs. 
Somers  said,  coming  to  the  rescue.  The  chil- 
dren were  all  fond  of  games. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

BECALMED. 

"  WHAT  shall  it  be  first,  then  ?  "  went  on  Auntie 
Jean,  adjusting  the  cushions  behind  her  back  and 
resting  her  umbrella  against  the  rail. 

"  Teakettle,"  suggested  Edna. 

"  What  is  teakettle  ?  "  asked  Hilda. 

"  Don't  you  know  ?  We  play  it  lots.  Some- 
body goes  out  — " 

"  Into  the  water  ?  "  put  in  Archie.  "  Then 
Cricket  is  l  it,'  I  say." 

"Well,  of  course,  Archie,  I  was  thinking  of 
dry  land.  Somebody  shuts  up  her  ears,  then, 
and  we  choose  a  word.  It  must  be  one  with  two 
or  three  meanings.  Then,  whoever  is  *  it,'  begins 
to  ask  questions,  and  we  answer,  only  we  put  the 
word  '  teakettle '  in  place  of  the  real  word.  We 
can  say  '  teakettling,'  you  know,  or  '  teakettled,' 
if  we  want  to.  Who  '11  be  <  it '  first  ? " 

"I'd  just  as  lief,"  said  Eunice,  going  to  the 
bow,  and  putting  her  fingers  in  her  ears,  and 
burying  her  head  in  a  cushion. 


268  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

"  What  shall  we  choose  for  a  word  ?  It  must 
have  two  or  three  meanings,  you  know." 

"  Sail  would  be  very  appropriate,"  suggested 
Will,  who  was  still  laboriously  sculling. 

"  Oh,  yes.  See,  Hilda  ?  There 's  to  sail,  and 
taking  a  sail,  and  a  sale  of  things." 

"  And  the  sail  of  the  boat,"  said  Archie. 

"All  ready,  Eunice.  Touch  her,  Archie. 
Begin,  Eunice." 

"  The  hardest  part  is  to  think  of  questions," 
said  Eunice,  turning  around  and  meditating. 
"  Let  me  see.  Auntie,  when  do  you  think  we 
will  get  home  ?  " 

"  When  we  are  on  a  teakettle,  it  is  never  safe 
to  say,"  answered  auntie. 

"  On  a  teakettle  —  on  .a  boat  —  that  does  n't 
fit,"  meditated  Eunice.  "  Will,  why  don't  you 
make  Archie  scull  now  ?  " 

"  Because  he 's  such  a  lazy  beggar.  When 
he  goes  teakettling,  he  won't  do  anything 
else." 

"  Edna,  is  the  moon  made  of  green  cheese  ?  " 

"  What  a  hard  question,"  groaned  Edna. 
"  What  shall  I  say  ?  If  we  teakettled  up  there, 
perhaps  we  could  find  out." 

"I  can't  guess  it  yet,"  said  Eunice,  thinking 


BECALMED.  269 

over  this  answer.     "  Cricket,  if  you  were  n't  a 
girl,  what  would  you  rather  be  ?  " 

"I  know — a  boy,"  said  Archie,  quickly. 
"  Would  n't  you,  Miss  Scricket  ? " 

"  No,  I  would  n't,  Mr.  Archie.  I  would  rather 
be  a  pig  than  a  boy.  A  nice  fat  pig,  and  then 
nobody  would  laugh  at  my  'knitting-needles.' 
That 's  what  papa  calls  my  legs,  always,  auntie, 
you  know,  because  they  're  not  fat,  I  know.  He 
always  wants  mamma  to  knit  with  them,  and  all 
that  nonsense.  It  seems  to  amuse  them  very 
much,"  added  Cricket,  with  a  bored  air. 

"  You  have  n't  teakettled  once,  child,"  said 
Eunice.  "  Oh,  auntie,  I  must  just  stop  to  tell 
you  a  funny  story  about  Cricket.  It  was  such 
a  joke  on  her.  Once  we  were  playing  '  She 
comes,  she  comes.'  You  know  that,  don't  you  ? 
Somebody  says, '  What  does  she  come  with  ? '  and 
then  you  give  the  first  letter  of  the  thing  you  've 
thought  of.  It  was  Cricket's  turn,  and  she  — 
well,  she  was  rather  a  little  girl  —  gave  '  N.  N.' 
for  the  initials.  We  guessed  and  guessed,  and 
had  to  give  up,  finally,  and  then  she  piped  up, 
1  It 's  what  papa  calls  my  legs,'  and  she  meant 
'  knitting-needles.'  ' 

"  I  was  very  little,"  said  Cricket,  blushing  and 


270  CRICKET   AT   THE    SEASHORE. 

apologising.  "It  was  as  much  as  three  years 
ago.  I  have  n't  answered  your  question  yet, 
Eunice.  I  b'lieve  I  don't  want  to  be  a  pig, 
after  all,  for  in  the  fall  the  farmer  has  a  tea- 
kettle, and  sells  his  pigs,  and  I  'd  have  to  go  to 
the  butcher  and  be  killed,  and  be  cut  up  for 
sausage." 

"  I  don't  seem  to  get  hold  of  it,  yet,"  said 
Eunice,  wrinkling  her  forehead.  "Hilda,  how 
do  you  like  Marbury  ? " 

"  I  think  it 's  perfectly  lovely,"  declared  Hilda, 
enthusiastically.  "  Oh,  I  forgot  to  teakettle.  I 
think  teakettling  is  lovely,  even  if  you  do  get 
becalmed." 

"Teakettling — sailing!  Sail  is  the  word," 
exclaimed  Eunice,  instantly.  "  You  gave  it  away, 
Hilda.  I  guessed  it  on  you,  so  you  '11  have  to  go 
out." 

"  I  '11  never  be  able  to  guess  it  in  the  world," 
said  Hilda,  looking  disappointed. 

"  I  '11  take  your  place,"  said  Will,  instantly. 
"  It 's  about  time  that  Archie  sculled.  Take 
hold,  old  boy,  and  keep  at  it." 

"  Choose  a  hard  one,"  said  Eunice,  when  Will 
had  duly  stopped  up  his  ears.  "  How  would 
steal  do  ?  " 


BECALMED.  271 

"  Yes,  or  we  might  have  oar  and  ore"  said 
Hilda. 

"  Scull  and  skull,"  said  Archie,  pensively. 

"  That 's  good,"  said  auntie.  "  Or  else  bough, 
and  bow  of  the  boat,  and  bow,  to  make  a 
bow." 

"  Let 's  take  that,  for  there  are  so  many  mean- 
ings," said  Cricket. 

"  All  right.  Eeady,  Will,"  said  Archie,  kick- 
ing him. 

Will  uncovered  his  ears  and  began. 

"  Edna,  how  many  sandwiches  did  you  eat  for 
luncheon  ?  " 

"  I  ought  to  make  you  a  teakettle  for  asking 
me  such  an  easy  question,"  laughed  Edna.  "  I 
ate  two  —  I  think." 

"  Whopper  !  "  said  Will.  "  Eunice,  why  is  a 
crocodile  like  the  North  Pole  ?  " 

"  Because  there 's  a  B  in  both,"  answered 
Eunice,  promptly.  "  Will,  ask  sensible  questions, 
or  I  '11  get  a  teakettle  when  I  get  home,  and  hit 
you  with  it." 

"  That  might  be  a  stone,  but  stone  won't 
do.  Cricket,  now  think  carefully  over  your 
answer.  If  three  men  work  all  day  on  a  fer- 
tile farm  —  " 


272  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

"  I  '11  get  Archie  to  throw  you  over  the  tea- 
kettle this  minute,  if  you  don't  stop,"  threatened 
Cricket. 

"  Throw  me  over  the  teakettle  —  over  the  side 
—  stern— bow.  Bow.  That's  it,  young  lady. 
Caught  you  on  that." 

And  so  the  game  progressed,  till  they  had  suffi- 
ciently teakettled. 

"  What  next  ?  "  asked  some  one. 

"  Suppose  we  have  tableaux,  and  begin  with 
Cricket  for  Venus,"  said  Archie,  looking  at  her 
with  his  head  on  one  side. 

"  You  need  n't  make  fun  of  my  looks,  Mr. 
Archie.  I  know  this  mackintosh  is  n't  very  be- 
coming, but  I  don't  care  for  looks,  anyway." 

"  You  might  as  well  intermingle  a  few  looks 
if  you  can,"  said  Eunice.  "  And  you  do  look  too 
funny.  Your  clothes  are  dry,  now,  anyway. 
Had  n't  she  better  put  them  on,  auntie  ?  " 

So  the  shawl  screen  was  again  put  up,  and  the 
display  of  dress  and  petticoats  disappeared  from 
the  sail  of  the  Grentle  Jane. 

"  I  feel  more  respectable,"  teased  Archie, "  now 
the  weekly  wash  is  taken  in.  Hated  to  be  taken 
for  a  canal-boat." 

"  No,  we  'd  rather  be  taken  for  a  tow,"  said 


BECALMED.  273 

Cricket,  smartly,  and  Archie  fell  back,  rigid  with 
mock  admiration. 

"  Now,  if  we  only  had  pencils  and  paper,"  said 
auntie,  "  there  are  many  games  we  might  play." 

"  Oh,  wait !  wait !  "  exclaimed  Cricket,  jump- 
ing up  suddenly  and  tumbling  over  auntie  in  her 
excitement.  She  dived  into  the  tiny  hold,  and 
triumphantly  brought  out  her  mysterious  news- 
paper package. 

"  I  thought  perhaps  the  girls  would  like  to 
write  on  their  stories  for  the  *  Echo,' "  she  ex- 
plained eagerly,  "  so  I  brought  all  the  blank 
books  and  pencils.  You  can  tear  some  leaves 
out  of  the  back  of  mine  and  use  them." 

There  was  much  applause  at  Cricket's  fore- 
thought. 

"  Wise  child,"  said  auntie,  approvingly,  "  I  am 
glad  to  see  that  '  though  on  pleasure  you  are 
bent  you  have  a'  —  literary  mind.  We  might 
illustrate  proverbs." 

"  Oh,  I  can't  draw,"  said  Eunice,  quickly. 

«  So  much  the  better.  You  need  not  draw 
well,  for  it's  much  more  fun  if  you  don't.  I'll 
tear  these  leaves  in  two,  Cricket,  to  make  them 
long  and  narrow.  Now,  we  must  each  illustrate 
some  proverb  at  the  bottom  of  the  slip,  or  some 


274  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

line  of  poetry,  if  you  prefer.  Only  label  it,  which 
it  is.  When  we  are  all  done,  we  each  pass  our 
slips  to  the  next  one,  who  writes  what  she  thinks 
it  is,  and  folds  back  the  writing,  and  passes  it 
on.  When  we  have  each  written  our  comments, 
they  are  opened  and  read.  Most  of  the  fun 
comes  from  the  different  guesses,  so  you  see  you 
must  n't  draw  too  well,  and  make  your  ideas  too 
plain.  Now,  to  work,  all  of  you.  Here  are  your 
slips." 

They  all  fell  industriously  to  work,  interrupt- 
ing themselves  with  many  a  groan  and  protest. 
When  all  were  finished  they  passed  on  their  slips 
to  the  next  one.  There  was  much  giggling  at 
the  first  sight  of  some  of  the  very  remarkable 
drawings. 

"  Now,"  said  Auntie  Jean,  when  the  slips  had 
all  passed  around,  and  had  returned  to  the  hands 
of  their  respective  artists,  "  each  of  you  unfold 
your  papers,  and  read  the  comments  aloud  for 
the  benefit  of  the  company.  Cricket,  you  're  the 
youngest.  Suppose  you  begin." 

Cricket  giggled.  Her  picture  consisted  of  a 
scraggy  tree,  with  several  long  wavy  lines  near 
its  foot.  In  the  branches  of  the  tree  were  two 
good-sized  attempts  at  fowls  of  some  description, 


BECALMED.  275 

while  a  third  huge  creature  was  flying   near. 
She  read  the  comments  in  order. 

"  There  were  three  crows  sat  on  a  tree, 
And  they  were  black  as  crows  could  be." 

AUNTIE. 

"  The  breaking  waves  dashed  high, 
Caught  the  pilgrims  on  the  fly." 

("  Could  n't  think  how  that  last  line  goes," 
murmured  Archie,  "  but  I  'm  sure  those  are  pil- 
grims on  the  fly."  ) 

"  Two 's  a  company,  three  is  none."    EDNA. 

"  Good-morning !  do  you  use  Pears'  Soap  ?  "    WILL. 

"Early  bird  catches  the  first  worm."  (Guess  those 
things  down  there  are  worms.)  HILDA. 

"  Two  birds  in  the  bush  are  worth  one  in  the  hand." 
(I  had  to  make  the  proverb  fit  the  drawing.)  EUNICE. 

"  And  it 's  just  as  plain,"  announced  Cricket, 
contemptuously.  "  Birds  of  a  feather  flock  to- 
gether." 

"  Ho !  what  are  those  water  streaks  doing 
down  there,  then  ? "  asked  Archie.  "  The  things 
I  thought  were  breaking  waves." 


276  CRICKET   AT   THE    SEASHORE. 

"  /  thought  they  were  curly  worms,"  added 
Hilda. 

"  They  're  not  worms  or  water  either.  I  just 
put  some  lines  there  to  fill  up.  I  think  I  meant 
them  for  grass.  How  silly  you  all  are.  Now, 
auntie." 

Auntie's  picture  was  beautifully  simple.  It 
was  nothing  but  an  inclined  plane,  with  a  round 
thing  rolling  down  it.  Of  course  everybody  had 
written,  "  A  rolling  stone  gathers  no  moss." 

"  Not  at  all,"  answered  auntie,  coolly.  "  I 
thought  you  would  all  think  that,  but  it  really  is, 
'  Things  are  not  what  they  seem.'  It  looks  like 
a  stone,  but  it  is  n't.  Now,  Eunice." 

Eunice  had  a  remarkable  sketch  of  a  darkly- 
shaded  spot,  with  a  house  showing  dimly  through, 
and  at  one  side  a  spiky  sun  was  rising  above  a 
quavering  line,  evidently  meant  for  the  horizon. 
There  were  various  guesses.  "  Any  port  in  a 
storm."  ("  Which  is  the  same  as  saying,  any 
guess,  if  you  can't  make  the  right  one,"  mur- 
mured Will.) 

"  Rising  Sun  Stove  Polish."  "  Let  not  the  sun 
go  down  upon  your  wrath."  "  Every  cloud  has  a 
silver  lining."  ("  That  house  is  behind  a  cloud, 
is  n't  it  ?  "  asked  Cricket.) 


BECALMED.  277 

"It's  a  very  easy  one,  too,"  said  Eunice. 
"  '  It 's  always  darkest  just  before  dawn.'  Don't 
you  see  the  sun  just  coming  up  ?  " 

Archie,  who  drew  beautifully,  had  made  a 
really  very  clever  little  sketch  of  a  Spencerian 
pen,  mounted  on  two  thin  legs,  furnished  with  an 
equally  thin  pair  of  arms,  and  a  face  as  well,  en- 
gaged in  a  boxing  match  with  a  very  plump  and 
well-developed  sword.  In  a  second  picture,  the 
sword  was  flat  on  the  ground,  while  the  pen  was 
dancing  away,  grinning.  Of  course  this  could 
be  only,  "  The  Pen  is  mightier  than  the  Sword." 

Hilda  had  drawn  simply  two  long  lines  in  per- 
spective. As  nobody  could  make  anything  of 
them,  the  guesses  were  wild. 

"  Why,  don't  you  see  ?  Those  two  lines  are  a 
lane.  '  It 's  a  long  lane  that  has  no  turning.' 
That 's  the  long  lane.  It  has  no  turning,"  ex- 
plained Hilda.  "  I  thought  you  would  guess  it 
the  very  first  thing." 

When  the  last  of  the  guesses  were  read,  auntie 
rose  to  rest  herself  from  a  sitting  position. 

"  Is  n't  there  a  bit  of  a  breeze  coming  up  ?  " 
she  asked,  shading  her  eyes  with  her  hand,  to 
look  across  the  glassy  sea,  in  search  of  the  faint- 
est sign  of  a  ripple. 


278  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

"  Sorra  a  bit,"  said  Archie.  "  Here,  Will,  you 
scull  a  while,  and  rest  a  fellow.  Hello !  we  're 
really  getting  along.  See  how  far  the  Gurnet 
Lights  are  behind  us." 

"  Yes,  but  look  at  the  distance  ahead  of  us,  to 
be  sculled  over  yet,"  said  Auntie  Jean,  "  and 
here  it  is  four  o'clock,"  consulting  her  watch. 
"  Come,  Archie,  it 's  time  to  whistle  up  the 
wind." 

"  I  will ! "  said  Edna,  breaking  out  again  into 
her  blackbird  whistle. 

Cricket  listened  in  rapt  admiration. 

"  Why  ccuri!t  I  do  it  ?  "  she  sighed. 

"  But,  Mrs.  Sorners  ? "  broke  out  Hilda,  in 
amazement,  "  can  they  really  whistle  up  a 
breeze  ? " 

"  No,  indeed,  dear.  It 's  only  an  old  saying 
about  sailors.  The  children  do  it  for  fun  when 
we  're  becalmed  sometimes.  Well,  there  's  no 
signs  of  it  yet.  I  '11  tell  you  what  I  '11  do,  chil- 
dren. While  you  're  whistling  up  the  wind,  I  '11 
write  an  adjective  story  for  you." 

"  Oh,  that  will  be  fun ! "  exclaimed  one  and 
all.  All,  that  is,  but  Hilda,  who  asked  again  : 

"  Now,  what  is  an  adjective  story  ?  " 

"I  write  a  little  story  about  anything,"  ex- 


BECALMED.  279 

plained  Mrs.  Somers,  giving  her  pencils  to  Will 
to  be  sharpened, "  and  I  leave  a  space  before  every 
noun.  When  I  have  written  it,  you  each  give 
nie  adjectives  in  turn  to  fill  in  the  spaces,  and  I 
write  them  just  as  you  supply  them.  Of  course 
they  never  fit,  and  a  very  funny  hodge-podge  is 
the  result.  Now,  while  I  'm  writing  you  must 
all  be  thinking  up  a  good  supply  of  adjectives, 
for  I  shall  want  a  quantity." 

So  Auntie  Jean  took  Cricket's  blank-book  and 
began  to  scribble ;  she  wrote  busily  for  ten  or 
fifteen  minutes,  and  then  announced  she  was 
ready  for  the  adjectives. 

"  I  call  it  the  '  Tale  of  the  Shipwrecked  Mari- 
ners,' "  she  said,  when  all  the  adjectives  were 
duly  written  in.  "  And  now  for  the  tale." 

"  Once  upon  a  time,  in  the  pathetic  town  of 
Marbury,  there  lived  a  green  and  scrumptious 
lady  with  a  wriggling  troop  of  fantastic  grand- 
children, who  made  her  life  miserable.  First  of 
all  was  the  eldest,  the  awful  and  weird  William, 
who  was  quite  intolerable.  Next  to  him  was  the 
cute  and  sublime  Archie,  who  was  always  jolly 
and  superstitious.  They  had  a  sullen  and  sarcas- 
tic sister,  the  entrancing  Edna,  whom  they  de- 
lighted to  tease.  One  summer  their  delightful 


280  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

and  sarcastic  cousins,  the  mournful  and  flowery 
Eunice,  and  the  melodious  Cricket  ["  Auntie ! 
you  put  that  there  on  purpose,"  came  reproach- 
fully from  the  last-mentioned  young  woman. 

"  No,  I  did  n't,  my  dear.  It  really  happened 
so."] 

"The  melodious  Cricket,  arrived  to  spend  a 
long  time  with  the  dingy  Somers  family,  much 
to  their  enjoyment.  After  various  adventures, 
their  ecstatic  friend,  the  lively  Hilda  Mason, 
came  to  spend  a  few  days.  To  entertain  her,  one 
day,  they  took  her  out  in  a  wizened  boat  to  sail 
over  the  garrulous  bay.  They  dragged  their 
silent  auntie  "  [a  howl]  "  with  them,  promising 
her  a  talkative  day.  All  went  well  at  first,  but 
suddenly  a  gruesome  storm  arose,  and  beat  upon 
their  inky  boat,  which  began  to  leak.  The  mu- 
sical crew  were  all  much  frightened,  and  tried  to 
bail  out  the  ugly  water,  but  it  rose  too  fast,  and 
soon  the  monkeyish  boat  began  to  sink.  After 
it  had  sunk  through  the  water  about  a  mile,  it 
struck  plump  on  a  rock,  and  then  it  glided  into 
a  dwarfish  cave  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea.  The 
grumpy  and  genial  Cricket  immediately  fell  out 
of  the  boat,  in  her  surprise.  Cunning  Will 
jumped  after  her.  The  sugary  party  had  come 


BECALMED.  281 

to  a  mountainous  spot  down  below  the  sea,  and 
they  found  a  minute  garden  there,  full  of  curly 
fruits.  The  aggravating  Hilda,  the  indefinite 
Eunice,  and  the  smooth  Edna,  seeing  the  proper 
Cricket "  [another  howl]  "  struggling  in  the 
water  with  the  contrary  Will,  immediately 
jumped  out  after  them,  leaving  the  rough  Archie 
and  forlorn  auntie  in  command  of  the  boat. 
Suddenly  a  bold  gnome  popped  up  his  dainty 
head  from  behind  a  rock,  saying,  '  Welcome, 
Englishmen !  You  are  in  the  cave  of  accident. 
Look  out  for  yourselves.'  As  he  spoke,  his  wa- 
tery head  fell  off.  He  felt  around  but  could  not 
find  it,  since  his  eyes  had  gone  with  his  head, 
so  he  said,  politely, '  Will  some  of  you  immense, 
raw  people  pick  up  my  jealous  head  for  me,  and 
kindly  put  it  on  ? '  Snub-nosed  Hilda  "  ["  Ah, 
you've  caught  it  now,  young  lady,"  from  Ar- 
chie] "being  nearest,  handed  him  his  head, 
which  had  rolled  to  her  idolatrous  feet.  The 
hysterical  gnome  immediately  clapped  it  on  — 
wrong  side  before.  '  Never  mind,'  he  said. 
'  Now  I  can  go  to  school,  or  from  school,  just  as 
I  like,  and  nobody  will  ever  know  what  I  'm  do- 
ing.' The  dumpy  party  then  went  on  their  way 
exploring,  leaving  the  squealing  Archie  and  un- 


282  CKICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

canny  auntie  calling  after  them,  and  weeping 
unmixed  tears  of  terror,  lest  by  some  accident 
they  should  never  come  back.  The  noble  gnome 
went  along  in  front  of  them,  when  suddenly  he 
began  walking  right  up,  in  the  water.  When  the 
others  came  up  to  the  same  place,  to  their  sur- 
prise, they  found  themselves  doing  the  same 
thing.  They  could  n't  possibly  stay  on  the 
ground.  '  I  don't  want  to  go  up,'  said  erratic 
Cricket,  kicking,  and  shamefaced  Will  called  to 
the  sparkling  gnome,  to  know  what  was  the  mat- 
ter. '  Nothing  at  all,'  he  called  back,  cheerfully, 
'  only  gravity  does  n't  happen  to  act  just  there. 
Sometimes  it  does  n't  and  then  you  're  just  as 
likely  to  go  somewhere  else.' 

" '  Let 's  go  back ! '  said  prim  Eunice. 

" '  Very  well.  There 's  nowhere  to  go  but 
back,'  called  back  the  rickety  gnome.  '  Stand 
on  your  heads,  and  go  the  other  way.' 

"  The  humble  party  upset  themselves,  and  got 
along  very  nicely,  and  soon  found  themselves  on 
the  ground  again. 

" '  I  don't  like  to  walk  all  sorts  of  ways,'  said 
flighty  Hilda.  '  I  like  to  go  on  my  grateful  feet 
best.'  So  they  decided  to  go  back  to  the  boat 
as  best  they  could.  But  when  they  came  to  the 


BECALMED.  283 

suave  boat  it  was  n't  there,  for  the  ground  had 
opened  accidentally,  and  cowardly  Archie  and 
generous  auntie  had  fallen  right  through  the 
earth,  to  China,  probably,  if  nothing  happened 
to  stop  them.  This  was  quite  a  disappointment 
to  the  naughty  party,  who  didn't  know  what  to 
do  next.  So  they  decided  to  do  nothing  at  all, 
and,  as  far  as  the  present  dramatic  and  incon- 
venient historian  knows,  that  is  just  what  they 
are  doing  at  the  present  time.  Here  ends  the 
swaggering  story  of  the  mellow  and  gruff 
shipwrecked  mariners." 

«  Is  that  all  ?  "  "  What  fun !  "  «  Did  n't  the 
adjectives  come  in  funny ! "  "  Write  another 
one ! "  came  the  various  comments. 

"  Hurrah  for  Mumsey ! "  shouted  Archie. 
"  You  're  a  regular  Alice  in  Wonderland." 

"  I  wish  I  were,  and  I  would  raise  the  wind," 
said  Auntie  Jean. 

"  Slang,  madam  ! "  both  her  sons  instantly 
announced. 

"  Is  it  ?  Then  I  beg  its  pardon,  and  yours, 
and  everybody's,"  answered  Auntie  Jean, 
promptly.  "  No,  Edna,  I  will  not  write  another 
one,  till  the  next  time  we  are  becalmed.  Isn't 
there  a  sign  of  a  breeze,  Will  ? " 


284  CKICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

"  None  yet,  but  we  are  making  way  slowly, 
with  the  sculling  and  the  tide.  We  're  half 
across  the  bay  now." 

"  Guess  this  rebus,"  said  Cricket,  presenting  a 
paper  on  which  she  had  been  drawing  for  a 
moment.  There  was  a  capital  letter  B,  —  a 
very  wild  and  inebriated  looking  letter  it  was,  too, 
—  and  beside  it  was  another  B,  with  beautiful, 
regular  curves,  lying  flat  on  its  back. 

"  It 's  one  word,"  hinted  Cricket. 

" '  How  doth  the  little  busy  B 
Improve  each  shining  hour,'  " 

suggested  Auntie   Jean,   instantly. 

"No,  that's  good,  but  it  isn't  right;  it's 
what  we  are  now." 

"  B-calmed,"  said  Archie.  "  And  you  're 
right.  That  B  needed  calming  badly,  you  little 
Gloriana  McQuirk."  For  every  separate  hair  of 
Cricket's  curly  crop,  having  been  wet  in  her  in- 
voluntary bath,  and  afterward  rubbed  dry,  stood 
out  in  a  separate  and  distinct  curl  from  all  the 
others,  making  a  veritable  halo  around  her 
head. 

"  This  is  the  way  you  look,  Cricket,"  said 
Archie,  seizing  a  pencil,  and  in  a  moment  his 
clever  fingers  had  drawn  a  head  in  which  noth- 


BECALMED.  285 

ing  was  to  be  seen  save  a  very  wide  smile,  and  a 
cloud  of  hair. 

"  I  look  very  well,  then,"  said  Cricket,  calmly. 
"  It 's  like  all  those  pictures  in  papa's  "  Paradise 
Lost,"  where  the  angels  all  have  halos,  you 
know.  It  would  be  very  convenient  to  have  a 
halo,  really,  would  n't  it,  auntie  ?  A  saint  could 
fry  his  own  eggs  right  on  his  halo,  for  instance, 
if  he  wanted  to,  couldn't  he  ?" 

"  That  would  be  a  practical  use  for  a  halo," 
laughed  auntie.  "  And  that  brings  up  a  sugges- 
tion of  more  lunch.  Let  us  eat  up  the  fragments. 
It 's  five  o'clock." 

"  And  here 's  a  bit  of  a  breeze  coming,"  said 
Will,  suddenly,  wetting  his  finger,  and  holding 
it  up.  "  Whoop-la !  She 's  coming !  Let 's 
give  her  the  call ! "  And  all  the  vigorous  young 
lungs  joined  in  a  wild  salute  of  "  Wah-who-wah ! 
wah-who-wah  !  Come,  little  breezes !  wah-who- 
wah!" 

"  I'll  stop  sculling,  and  eat  in  comfort  now," 
said  Will,  shipping  his  oar,  and  taking  a  sand- 
wich. "  She 's  safe  to  come,  now." 

And  the  breeze  did  not  belie  his  confidence, 
for  in  ten  minutes  more  the  sail  began  to  flap, 
and  then  to  fill.  The  boat  instantly  responded, 


286  CEICKET    AT    THE    SEASHOKE. 

and  Archie  took  the  helm.  The  breeze  steadily 
freshened,  and  in  two  minutes  more  the  Gentle 
Jane  was  skimming  along  like  a  bird.  And  so, 
not  long  after  six,  they  landed  at  the  dock. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

A   NEW   HIDING-PLACE. 

THE  four  girls  were  in  an  unusually  energetic 
frame  of  mind  the  next  day,  owing  to  so  .many 
hours  confinement  on  the  sailboat. 

"Let's  do  something  wild  to-day,"  said 
Cricket,  at  the  breakfast-table.  "  I  'd  like  to  ride 
a  crazy  horse." 

"  Are  you  tired  of  this  world  ?  "  asked  Will. 
"If  you  are,  I'll  go  and  borrow  Mr.  Gates's 
Josephus,  —  his  new  horse.  He's  only  half 
broken,  and  that 's  the  wrong  half." 

"  Cricket,  I  put  my  foot  down  on  your  doing 
anything  of  the  kind,"  said  auntie,  in  alarm,  not 
feeling  at  all  sure  of  Cricket.  "  Remember  you  're 
strictly  forbidden  to  mount  anything  but  Mopsie." 

"  And  the  sawhorse  ?  "  broke  in  Archie. 

"  Yes,  I  '11  except  the  sawhorse,"  conceded 
his  mother. 

"Why,  auntie,  I  rode  Columbus  all  around  the 
field,  bareback,  the  other  day,"  said  Cricket. 
"  I  did  n't  know  you  did  n't  want  me  to." 

"  Columbus !  you  crazy  child !     He 's  not  at 


288  CKICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

all  safe  even  for  a  man  to  ride  him.  Under- 
stand, my  dear,  that 's  tabooed." 

"  Oh,  auntie ! "  cried  Cricket,  clasping  her 
hands,  tragically,  "  If  you  've  any  filial  affection 
for  me,  you  won't  say  that !  I  do  so  love  to  ride 
a  horse  bareback.  Mopsie  is  dear,  but  I  like 
something  fiercer.''1 

"  If  you  have  any  filial  affection  for  me,  my 
dear,"  returned  auntie,  laughing,  "  you  will  say 
no  more  about  it.  You  know  I've  undertaken 
to  restore  all  you  children,  as  uninjured  as  possi- 
ble, to  your  father  and  mother.  Riding  half- 
broken  horses  bareback  is  not  exactly  the  safest 
thing  in  the  world." 

"What  let's  do,  then?"  asked  Edna. 

"  I  'm  going  to  take  grandma  for  a  nice  long 
ride  after  breakfast.  Suppose  two  of  you  come 
with  me,  and  the  other  two  ride  or  drive  Mopsie 
and  Charcoal,"  proposed  auntie. 

"  All  right.  Suppose  you  and  I  go  in  the 
carriage,  Eunice,"  said  Edna,  and  let  the  children 
take  the  ponies." 

"  The  children,  indeed  !  "  said  Hilda,  bridling. 
"  I  'm  as  old  as  you,  Edna." 

"  Cricket 's  the  only  trundle-bed  trash,"  said 
Archie,  pulling  her  hair. 


A   NEW   HIDING-PLACE.  289 

"  Goodness  me,  auntie,  if  you  'd  whipped  him 
a  little  when  he  was  trundle  -  bed  trash,  he 
might  have  been  very  much  nicer  now,"  said 
Cricket,  pulling  away,  and,  by  her  hasty  move- 
ment, upsetting  her  glass  of  milk.  "  There, 
now !  I  've  done  it  again.  Please  excuse  me. 
auntie." 

"  It  was  not  your  fault,  dear.  It 's  that  bad 
boy  of  mine  that  must  be  blamed.  I  read  a 
story  a  little  while  ago  of  a  plan  where  all  the 
small  boys  were  put  into  a  barrel  when  they 
were  six,  and  fed  and  educated  through  the 
bung-hole,  and  not  let  out  till  they  were  twenty- 
one.  Would  you  like  to  live  there  ? " 

"  Oh,  how  lovely !  "  sighed  Edna.  "  Let 's  go 
there !  Think  of  having  no  one  to  tease  you." 

"  Or  pull  your  hair,"  said  Cricket,  feelingly. 

"  Or  call  you  names,"  said  Hilda,  severely. 

"  Or  hide  your  things,"  added  Eunice,  re- 
proachfully. 

"  Or  take  you  sailing,  or  teach  you  to  wrestle, 
or  write  things  for  your  old  l  Echo,'  or  harness 
the  ponies  when  Luke  is  not  round,  and  look  out 
for  you  generally,"  said  Archie,  in  a  breath. 
"  If  boys  are  barrelled  in  that  place,  girls  ought 
to  be  —  " 


290  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

"Hung,"  said  Edna,  sweetly.  "Please  pass 
me  the  syrup." 

"  Since  you  've  settled  that  question,"  said 
auntie,  smiling,  "  shall  we  arrange  it  that  Eunice 
and  Edna  go  with  us,  and  Cricket  and  Hilda 
ride  the  ponies?  Or  would  you  rather  drive, 
Hilda?" 

"  I  '11  ride  with  Cricket,  please,"  said  Hilda. 

"  We  '11  have  a  splendid  scamper,  then,"  said 
Cricket.  "  Oh,  Hilda !  do  you  know,  I  've  found 
out  lately  how  to  make  Mopsie  go  up  on  his  hind 
legs  and  walk  around  with  me  on  his  back.  It 's 
lots  of  fun  and  I  don't  fall  off  a  bit,  auntie." 

"  That  seems  rather  dangerous,  my  dear,"  said 
auntie,  looking  disturbed.  "  When  did  you 
learn?" 

"  There 's  really  not  any  danger,  I  think, 
mother,"  said  Will.  "  Mopsie's  such  a  gentle 
little  chap  and  so  well  trained.  He  walks 
around  on  his  hind  legs  as  smoothly  as  Charcoal 
on  four,  and  comes  down  so  gently  that  you  'd 
hardly  know  it.  He  knows  just  how." 

"  And  if  I  fall  off,"  said  Cricket,  "  there  is  n't 
very  far  to  fall,  you  know." 

"  Oh,  girls !  "  said  Eunice,  suddenly  changing 
the  subject,  "  don't  forget  there  is  the  meeting 


A   NEW    HIDING-PLACE.  291 

of  the  '  Echo  Club '  at  three  this  afternoon,  to 
read  the  '  Echo.'  Do  you  want  to  hear  it  again, 
auntie  ? " 

"To  be  sure  I  do.  I  want  to  know  all  about 
your  budding  geniuses.  And  it  will  amuse 
grandma,  too.  Meet  on  the  piazza.  And  can't 
you  make  the  hour  four  o'clock  to  suit  us  old 
ladies,  that  like  a  nap  after  luncheon  ? " 

"  Of  course  we  will.  I  'm  president,  and  I  '11 
appoint  the  meeting  at  four.  Can  we  be  excused 
now,  auntie  ?  We  will  be  round  somewhere 
when  you'  re  ready  to  go  to  ride.  I  've  got  to  do 
a  little  work  on  the '  Echo '  yet.  It  is  n't  quite 
finished." 

Even  the  long  scamper  on  the  ponies,  of  two 
or  three  hours,  failed  to  exhaust  Cricket's  en- 
ergy, and  when  they  returned  she  wanted  Hilda 
to  go  for  a  row  with  her.  Hilda  flatly  refused. 

"  You  are  the  most  untiresome  creature,"  she 
said.  "  I  should  think  you  'd  be  ready  to  drop. 
I  am,  I  know.  I  'm  going  to  get  into  the  ham- 
mock, and  I  'm  not  going  to  stir  till  dinner-time. 
Do  come  and  sit  down  yourself,  and  rest." 

"  Sit  down  and  rest,"  repeated  Cricket,  with 
much  scorn.  "  As  if  a  little  ride  like  that  tired 
me.  Well,  if  you  won't  go  to  row,  come  to  walk ! " 


292  CKICKET   AT   THE    SEASHORE. 

"  I  'm  going  to  sit  still,  I  say,"  returned  Hilda, 
firmly,  seating  herself  comfortably  in  the  ham- 
mock. "  I  '11  row  this  afternoon,  perhaps,  if  it 
isn't  too  hot.  Here  come  Eunice  and  Edna. 
Do  sit  down,  Cricket,  and  be  sensible." 

"  If  I  sat  down  I'd  be  insensible,"  answered 
Cricket,  trying  to  sit  cross-legged  on  the  piazza- 
rail.  "  There 's  old  Billy !  I  '11  take  him  for  a 
row,"  and  Cricket,  tipping  herself  sideways, 
alighted  on  her  feet  on  the  ground  below,  and 
ran  off. 

"  Such  a  child,"  sighed  Hilda,  with  the  air  of 
forty  years.  "  She  is  reprehensible  ! "  aiming  at 
irrepressible. 

Eunice  and  Edna  joined  her  on  the  piazza. 

"  Where  is  Cricket  ?"  Eunice  asked. 

"  She 's  rampaging  off,"  said  Hilda.  I  'm  so 
hot  that  I  don't  know  what  to  do,  and  there 's 
Cricket  calmly  going  out  on  that  scorching 
water.  Look  at  her,  now !  " 

The  girls  followed  Hilda's  indignant  finger, 
which  pointed  to  where  Cricket,  having  adjusted 
old  Billy  to  her  satisfaction  in  the  stern,  was 
pushing  off  the  boat.  The  tide  was  nearly  out, 
and  in  another  half -hour  the  flats  would  be  bare. 

"  I  wonder  if  she  '11  get  stuck  again,"  said 


"CRICKET  SAT  DOWN  ON  THE  BEACH  WITH  THE 
CHILDREN  " 


A   NEW   HIDING-PLACE.  295 

Edna,  with  interest,  shading  her  eyes  to  look. 
"  Cricket !  Cricket !  don't  —  forget  —  the  — 
tide!"  she  called,  making  a  speaking-tube  of 
her  hands. 

"No,"  called  Cricket,  in  reply,  "I'm  only 
going  a  little  distance,  just  for  exercise." 

"  For  exercise  !  "  groaned  Hilda,  sinking  down 
in  her  hammock. 

"  For  exercise  !  "  echoed  Edna,  subsiding  at 
full  length  in  a  steamer-chair. 

"  For  exercise ! "  said  Eunice,  briskly,  looking 
half  inclined  to  follow  her,  when  Edna  pulled 
her  down  beside  her. 

"No,  you  don't  want  to  go  at  all.  Cricket 
will  be  back  in  a  few  moments.  She  can't  go 
far,  on  account  of  the  tide." 

"  I  must  finish  my  '  Echo,'  any  way,"  said 
Eunice,  remembering  her  editorial  duties,  and 
vanishing  into  the  house  to  get  her  materials. 

It  was  not  long  before  Cricket  turned  and 
pulled  in.  The  children  were  on  the  beach  with 
Eliza,  and  Cricket  sat  down  on  the  sand  with 
them,  after  landing,  digging  and  laughing,  as  if 
she  were  six  years  old  herself.  Presently  they 
all  jumped  up,  and  ran  laughing  and  shouting 
after  her. 


296  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

"  Come  on,  girls,  and  play  '  Tick-den,'  "  called 
Cricket,  as  she  passed. 

"  Come  and  sit  down,"  chorused  the  girls, 
but  Cricket  laughed  and  ran  on,  the  twins 
tagging  after  her,  and  Kenneth  struggling  in 
the  rear. 

"  Tick-den  "  is  a  local  variation  of  the  time- 
honoured  "hide-and-go-seek."  There  is  not 
much  fun  in  it  when  there  are  only  three  play- 
ing, especially  when  two  of  the  three  have  very 
short  legs,  but  Cricket  seemed  to  find  a  certain 
amount  of  amusement  in  it,  as  she  did  in  every- 
thing. The  other  girls  made  remarks  of  wither- 
ing scorn  to  her,  as  she  flew  by,  but  Cricket  only 
laughed  and  tossed  back  her  curly  head,  and  ran 
on. 

At  last  there  was  a  longer  disappearance  than 
usual.  After  a  time  Zaidee  and  Helen,  with  Ken- 
neth lagging  after,  came  disconsolately  around  to 
the  front  piazza.  Zaidee's  soft,  silky,  black  hair 
lay  in  wet  streaks,  plastered  down  on  her  fore- 
head, while  Helen's  golden  locks  were  as  tightly 
curled  as  grape-tendrils. 

"  We  can't  find  Cricket  any  more,  for  she  's 
runned  away,"  announced  Zaidee,  aggrieved. 

"  We  've   hunted   and    hunted,"    said   Helen. 


A   NEW   HIDING-PLACE.  297 

"  We  heard  her  calling  once,  but  when  we  got 
where  she  was,  she  was  n't  there  any  more." 

"  She  '11  be  back  in  a  moment,"  said  Eunice, 
mopping  off  the  little  hot  head  with  a  practised 
hand.  "  You  sit  still  and  get  cool.  Really, 
'Liza  ought  not  to  let  you  run  around  this  way, 
in  the  hot  sun." 

"  Just  what  I  came  out  to  say,"  said  auntie, 
appearing  in  the  doorway.  "  I  came  down  to 
tell  you,  my  dear  little  girls,  that  it  is  much  too 
hot  to  run  around  this  way  any  more.  You  must 
sit  down  and  rest  till  after  dinner.  Where  's 
Cricket?" 

"  She 's  hided,  and  we  can't  find  her  any- 
where," repeated  Zaidee. 

"  She  will  come  out  presently,  when  she  finds 
you  are  n't  looking  for  her  any  more,"  said 
auntie,  sitting  down.  "  How  fares  our  noble 
editor  ?  " 

"Your  noble  editor  has  most  finished,"  said 
Eunice,  surveying,  with  pride,  her  neatly  printed 
pages.  "  If  you  could  only  stay  next  week,  Hilda, 
we  'd  let  you  print  a  number." 

"  I  would  just  as  soon  as  not,"  said  Hilda.  "  I 
can  print  very  nicely.  I  'd  like  to.  I  'd  put 
big,  beautiful  fancy  capitals  for  the  '  Echo,'  and 


298  CRICKET   AT   THE    SEASHORE. 

the  names  of  the  stories  in  fancy  capitals  also, 
and  I  'd  draw  tail-pieces." 

Eunice  and  Edna  exchanged  glances. 

"  It 's  a  very  great  pity  you  can't  stay,"  said 
Edna,  with  marked  politeness.  "  We  can't  do 
tail-pieces."  The  two  little  girls,  Hilda  and  Edna, 
were  just  enough  alike  to  clash  very  often,  though 
Edna  was  never  given  to  bragging,  as  Hilda 
sometimes  was,  and  she  was  much  more  unselfish. 

"  I  can  draw  very  well,"  said  Hilda,  serenely, 
and  with  perfect  truth.  Like  Edna,  she  had  a 
dainty  touch. 

The  minutes  passed  by,  and  still  Cricket  did 
not  appear.  Presently  auntie  raised  her  head, 
and  listened. 

"  I  thought  I  heard  Cricket  calling,"  she  said, 
"  but  I  don't  hear  it  again." 

A  moment  later,  Eunice  suddenly  said : 

"There  certainly  is  some  one  calling.  Is  it 
Cricket?"  She  stood  up  to  listen  better.  A 
muffled  cry  was  certainly  heard. 

"  Children  !     Eunice  !  " 

Eunice  shot  off  the  piazza. 

"  Yes,  Cricket,  where  are  you  ? "  running 
around  the  house.  In  a  few  moments  she  reap- 
peared from  the  other  side. 


A   NEW   HIDING-PLACE.  299 

"  Where  can  she  be  ?  I  ran  all  around  the 
barn,  too.  Hark  !  there  it  is  again  !  Cricket ! 
where  are  you  ?  " 

And  again  every  one  heard  the  same  muffled 
cry,  "  Eunice  !  " 

"Now  it  sounds  in  the  house,"  said  Mrs. 
Somers,  going  in. 

They  all  joined  in  the  search,  running  in  every 
direction,  and  trying  to  locate  the  indistinct 
sounds.  She  was  evidently  in  trouble,  but  they 
could  not  imagine  why  she  did  not  tell  them 
where  she  was.  Somebody  suggested  the  garret, 
and  they  all  trooped  up  there  and  searched  every 
corner  in  vain.  Then  closets,  even  to  the  rub- 
bers-closet under  the  stairs,  were  investigated. 
If  they  stood  inside  the  house,  her  call  seemed 
to  come  from  outside.  If  they  went  out,  she 
seemed  to  be  calling  from  inside.  After  the  barn 
and  woodshed  were  searched,  there  was  really 
no  place  for  her  to  conceal  herself  in. 

"  This  is  certainly  the  strangest  thing ! "  said 
Auntie  Jean,  at  last  in  despair.  "  Cricket,  dear 
child,  where  are  you  ? "  looking  up  at  the  trees. 

"  I  don't  know ! "  wailed  a  voice  so  near  them 
that  they  all  jumped.  They  were  near  the  open 
cellar  window,  where  the  coal  was  put  in. 


300  CRICKET    AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

"  Down  cellar ! "  cried  Eunice,  darting  away. 
"  She  must  be  caught  somewhere ! " 

But  down  cellar,  the  sounds,  though  still  audi- 
ble, were  more  vague  than  ever. 

"  It  really  sounds  in  the  furnace,"  suggested 
Eunice,  hopefully,  going  forward.  She  threw  open 
the  door,  rather  expecting  to  see  Cricket  crouch- 
ing in  a  bunch  in  the  fire-box.  But  no !  it  was 
guiltless  of  Cricket,  as  every  other  place  had  been. 

"This  is  getting  positively  uncanny,"  ex- 
claimed auntie,  when  suddenly  a  tremendous 
pounding  that  seemed  to  come  from  their  very 
feet  was  heard.  Hilda  grew  pale,  Edna  clung  to 
her  mother,  Zaidee  began  to  roar,  and  Helen  to 
whimper,  while  Eunice  sprang  forward,  listening 
intently. 

"  Do  that  again,  Cricket,"  she  said,  and  imme- 
diately the  pounding  was  repeated. 

"  If  I  had  ever  heard  of  an  underground  pas- 
sage here,  I  should  think  she  was  in  that,"  said 
auntie,  looking  puzzled.  "  If  it  were  Governor 
Winthrop's  house,  all  could  be  explained. 
Cricket,  in  the  name  of  all  that  is  weird,  where 
are  you  ?  " 

"I  don't  know,"  came  in  sepulchral  tones. 
"  I  seem  to  be  walled  up !  " 


A   NEW   HIDING-PLACE.  301 

"  Oh ! "  shrieked  Hilda,  clutching  Mrs.  Somers' 
other  hand. 

"  Are  you  underground  ?  Shall  we  dig  you 
out  ? "  called  auntie. 

Eunice  stood  turning  her  head  from  side  to 
side,  like  a  dog.  Then  she  made  a  rush  for  a 
large  closet  at  one  side  of  the  cellar.  It  was 
nearly  empty  except  for  a  few  stone  jars. 

"  I  looked  in  there  once,"  said  auntie,  but  as 
Eunice  opened  the  door,  the  pounding  began 
again,  apparently  directly  back  of  it. 

"  But  the  back  of  the  closet  is  against  the  cel- 
lar wall,"  said  Auntie  Jean  in  new  bewilderment, 
but  at  the  very  moment,  Cricket's  voice,  clearer 
now  and  more  distinct,  announced,  "  I  'm  here," 
with  a  vigorous  kick,  to  emphasize  her  words. 
"  Can't  you  get  me  out  ?  I  'm  nearly  dead." 

"  But  what  are  you  in,  and  how  in  the  name  of 
wonder  did  you  get  there  ? "  said  Auntie  Jean, 
more  puzzled  than  ever,  surveying  the  blank 
boards  before  her.  "  Eunice,  run  and  find  Luke, 
and  tell  him  to  come  here.  Are  you  against  the 
cellar  wall,  Cricket  ?  " 

"  I  don't  seem  to  know  where  I  am,"  answered 
Cricket,  half-laughing.  "  I  've  fallen  into  some- 
thing." 


302  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

In  a  few  minutes  Eunice  returned  with  Luke. 
The  moment  he  looked  in  at  the  open  closet  door, 
he  burst  into  a  loud  guffaw,  slapping  his  thigh 
with  his  hand. 

"  She 's  in  the  cold-air  box,  by  gosh ! " 

"The  cold -air  box!"  echoed  everybody  in 
varying  intonations.  It  was  even  so.  The  old 
house  had  an  unusually  deep  cellar.  When  the 
furnace  had  been  put  into  the  house  a  few  years 
before,  the  cold-air  box  had  to  go  in  as  best  it 
could.  It  happened  to  be  more  convenient  to 
build  it  down  the  back  of  an  unused  closet 
which  already  had  an  opening  for  a  window  at 
the  level  of  the  ground.  So  the  back  of  the 
closet  had  been  partioned  off  for  it,  and  it  was 
continued  under  the  cemented  floor  to  the  fur- 
nace. Luke  had  lately  been  doing  something  to 
it,  so  both  the  cover  that  shuts  off  the  cold  air 
was  out,  and  also  the  wire-netting,  that  went 
over  the  window. 

Cricket  seeing  the  window  from  the  outside, 
took  it  for  granted  that  it  opened  into  the  coal- 
bin,  and,  in  her  heedless  fashion,  backed  hastily 
through,  as  she  was  looking  for  a  good  place 
to  hide  in,  meaning  to  swing  down  by  her  hands, 
and  drop  on  her  feet.  She  did  drop,  what  to 


A   NEW   HIDING-PLACE.  303 

her  surprise  seemed  about  to  the  middle  of  the 
earth,  and  it  really  was  some  distance.  The 
cellar,  as  I  said,  was  unusually  deep,  and  Cricket 
was  only  four  feet  high.  Every  one  knows  how 
surprising  it  is  to  come  down  even  a  foot  or  two 
lower  than  we  expect,  and  the  swift,  long  drop, 
when  she  thought  she  must  be  already  near  the 
cellar  bottom,  not  only  startled,  but  slightly 
stunned  her  for  a  few  moments.  When  she 
opened  her  eyes  after  the  black,  dizzy  whirl  that 
lasted  for  several  minutes,  she  could  not  imagine 
what  sort  of  a  place  she  was  in.  The  light 
above  her  showed  her  a  square,  well-like  tunnel, 
set  up  on  end,  and  about  two  feet  square,  with 
the  window  ledge  five  feet  higher  than  her 
head.  At  first  she  tried  to  climb  up  the  wall 
by  bracing  herself  on  opposite  sides  of  it,  but 
her  muscles  were  not  quite  equal  to  this.  It 
was  not  until  it  slowly  dawned  on  her  that 
she  could  not  possibly  get  out  by  her  own 
efforts,  that  she  began  to  call.  Of  course  her 
voice  was  carried  by  the  furnace  pipes  all  over 
the  house,  making  it  impossible  to  locate  the 
sound. 

"  There 's  a  big  hole  down  by  my  feet,"  Cricket 
called  out,  when  she  heard  them  debating  as  to 


304  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

the  best  way  to  get  her  out.  "  Can't  I  crawl 
through  that  and  come  out  somewhere  ? " 

"  You  'd  come  out  in  the  furnace,  Miss,"  said 
Luke,  "  and  you  'd  get  stuck  in  the  bend.  I  '11 
haul  you  up  from  the  outside." 

They  all  went  outside,  while  Luke  tried  to 
reach  down  to  her,  but  their  hands  could  not 
make  connections. 

"  Let  a  ladder  down,"  said  Eunice,  but  there 
was  not  room  for  both  a  ladder  and  Cricket, 
even  if  one  could  have  been  put  down. 

"  Let  a  rope  down,  and  tie  it  around  her 
waist,"  said  Luke,  "  and  I  '11  haul  it  up." 

"  I  'm  afraid  that  would  hurt  her,"  said  auntie, 
anxiously. 

Just  then  Will  and  Archie  arrived  on  the 
scene,  and  joined  the  group  around  the  window. 

"  What 's  up  ?  caught  a  burglar  down  there  ?  " 
asked  Will. 

"  Yes,  one  caught  in  the  very  act.  Question 
is,  getting  it  up." 

"  Will,  is  that  you  ? "  called  a  forlorn  voice 
from  the  depths.  "  Do,  for  goodness  sake,  get 
me  out  of  this  hole." 

Archie  instantly  poked  his  head  through  the 
opening,  and  looked  down  at  her. 


A   NEW    HIDING-PLACE.  305 

"  Cricket,  by  jingo !  How 's  the  weather 
down  there  ? " 

"  Don't  tease  now,  Arch,"  begged  Cricket. 
"  Get  me  up,  for  I  'm  nearly  dead  down  here." 

"Why  don't  you  knock  away  some  of  the 
boards  from  the  partition  down-stairs  ? "  asked 
Will.  "  It  would  n't  take  a  moment.  Where's 
the  axe,  Luke  ? " 

"  Will,  you  're  the  Lady  from  Philadelphia," 
exclaimed  his  mother.  "  Of  course  we  can." 

And  in  ten  minutes  more  Cricket  was  a  free 
individual  again,  and  quite  ready  to  attack  their 
belated  dinner. 


CHAPTER    XXI. 
BILLY'S   PKAYER. 

A  LITTLE  procession  trailed  slowly  across  the 
orchard,  towards  the  cottage  of  the  poor  old 
woman  in  whom  grandma  was  so  much  inter- 
ested. The  procession  consisted  of  Hilda  and 
Cricket,  the  latter  walking  very  sedately  along, 
because  she  had  in  charge  a  dish  of  something 
good  to  eat  for  the  old  woman ;  then  the  twins, 
with  their  arms  tight  around  each  other's  necks, 
as  usual ;  then  old  Billy,  shambling  along,  his 
gaunt  figure  a  little  bent  forward,  and  his  hands 
clasped  behind  his  back,  under  his  coat  tails,  as 
he  generally  walked.  Last  of  all  came  George 
W.,  stepping  daintily  along,  his  tail  arching  high 
over  his  back,  his  head  cocked  a  little  on  one 
side,  like  a  dog's,  and  his  ears  briskly  erect. 

George  was  not  an  invited  member  of  the 
party,  but  from  his  favorite  perch,  the  roof  of 
the  well-house  —  for  George  W.  was  always  of 
an  aspiring  mind  —  having  seen  the  party  set 
out,  he  immediately  scrambled  down  and  trotted 
after.  It  was  some  time  before  he  was  dis- 


BILLY'S  PRAYER.  307 

covered;  not,  indeed,  till  an  apple,  tumbling 
down  from  a  branch  of  a  tree,  chanced  to  hit 
the  very  tip  of  his  little  gray  nose.  Thereupon 
he  uttered  a  surprised  "  me-ow,"  with  an  accent 
that  belonged  to  George  W.  alone. 

"  There 's  that  cat,  coming  along,  too,"  ob- 
served Hilda,  "  is  n't  he  a  little  tag-tail  ? " 

"  See  how  pretty  Martha  looks  waving  over 
his  back  like  an  ostrich  feather !  "  said  Cricket, 
in  reply,  making  a  dive  for  her  pet  with  her  one 
free  hand,  and  nearly  meeting  with  an  accident, 
for  George  W.  preferred  walking  on  his  own 
four  legs  just  then,  and  darted  past  her. 

"  There !  you  nearly  lost  your  blanc-mange  off 
the  dish !  "  cried  Hilda,  rescuing  it.  "  I  knew 
I  'd  better  carry  it ! " 

"It's  all  right,"  said  Cricket,  hastily  straight- 
ening it.  "  I  '11  carry  it.  We  go  this  way  now," 
as  they  turned  out  of  the  orchard  into  a  lane. 
Grandma's  poor  woman,  "  Marm  Plunkett,"  as 
the  whole  neighbourhood  called  her,  was  a  for- 
lorn old  creature,  nearly  crippled  with  rheu- 
matism, who  lived  in  a  tiny  cottage  in  the  fields, 
half  a  mile  from  anybody.  She  had  a  daughter 
who  had  to  go  to  work  nearly  every  day  to  earn 
money  to  support  them  both,  so  the  old  mother 


308  CKICKET   AT    THE    SEASHOKE. 

was  alone  most  of  the  time.  She  had  worked  a 
good  deal  for  Mrs.  Maxwell,  when  she  was 
strong,  and  Mrs.  Maxwell  did  much  to  make  her 
comfortable  now.  Edna  had  often  been  there, 
and  lately  the  twins  had  been  over  with  Eliza, 
to  take  things  to  her,  since  grandma  had  been 
disabled,  but  it  chanced  that  Cricket  had  never 
been  over  there  before. 

The  poor  old  soul  was  delighted  to  see  them 
coming.  The  cottage  was  in  such  a  lonely  place 
that  few  persons  came  within  sight  of  the 
windows. 

"  You  're  as  welcome  as  the  flowers  in  May," 
quavered  the  thin  old  voice,  as  the  children 
went  in.  "  I  've  been  a-settin'  here  just  a-pinin' 
fer  some  one  to  come  along  to  visit  with  me  a 
spell.  Take  cheers,  won't  you  ?  Leastways, 
take  what  cheers  there  be." 

There  were  only  two  to  take,  and  one  of 
them  was  seatless.  Hilda  dropped  into  the 
whole  one.  Billy  sat  down  on  the  doorstep. 
The  twins  sat  upon  the  board  edge  of  the  bot- 
tomless chair.  Cricket  remained  standing,  with 
the  blanc-mange  still  in  her  hand.  All  of  them, 
shy,  as  children  always  are  in  the  presence  of 
poverty  and  sickness,  stared  helplessly  about. 


BILLY'S  PRAYEK.  309 

"  We  've  brought  you  some  blanc-mange,  marm 
—  I  mean  Mrs.  Plunkett  "  —for  grandma  did 
not  like  them  to  use  the  village  nickname  — 
said  Cricket,  after  a  moment,  "  and  Auntie  Jean 
will  be  here  to-morrow." 

"An'  it's  a  pretty-spoken  lady  she  is,"  an- 
swered Marm  Plunkett.  "  But  it 's  Mis'  Max- 
well that  I  allers  wants  ter  see  most.  When  '11 
she  git  to  see  me  agin  ?" 

Cricket  coloured  furiously. 

"  Grandma 's  lame,  now,"  she  said,  speaking 
up  bravely.  "  I  was  wrestling  with  her,  and  I 
threw  her,  and  sprained  her  ankle.  She  can't 
stand  on  it  much  yet." 

"  Good  Land  o'  Goshen  !  a-wrestlin'  with  Mis' 
Maxwell !  you  little  snip  of  a  gal !  and  thro  wed 
her !  for  goodness'  sake !  deary  me !  throwed 
her!" 

"  Yes,"  said  Cricket,  with  the  air  of  confessing 
to  a  murder,  as  she  set  down  the  blanc-mange.  I 
dorit  see  how  I  could  have  done  it.  I  just 
twisted  my  foot  around  her  ankle.  I  was  just 
as  much  surprised  as  if  the  —  the  church  had 
tumbled  over.  It  was  a  week  ago  Monday." 

"  Jest  to  think  on 't !  I  never  heerd  the  beat 
o'  that !  An'  nobody  hain't  told  me  of  it,  nuther. 


310  CRICKET    AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

'Lizy  was  here  yestiddy,  and  she  hain't  never  let 
on  a  word." 

"  I  guess  grandma  told  her  not  to,"  said  Cricket, 
blushing  again. 

"  Let  me  see,"  said  the  old  woman,  suddenly, 
bending  forward  and  peering  into  her  face. 
"  Which  one  be  you  ?  You  ain't  Miss  Edny.  Be 
you  Miss  Eunice  ?  " 

"  I  'm  Cricket,"  said  that  young  lady,  quite  at 
her  ease  now.  "  Most  probably  you  've  never 
heard  of  me  before.  We  're  all  grandma's  grand- 
children, and  are  spending  the  summer  here.  At 
least,  we  're  all  grandchildren  but  Hilda.  She 's 
visiting  me.  She  is  going  home  to-morrow,  and 
I  'm  awfully  sorry." 

Marm  Plunkett  paid  no  attention  to  the  end  of 
this  speech.  She  was  bending  eagerly  forward, 
looking  at  Cricket  through  her  big  steel-bowed 
glasses. 

"  Have — I  —  seen  —  Miss  —  Cricket !      Have 

—I — seen — her!"  came  slowly  from  the  old 

woman's  lips,  as  she  clasped  her  hands  over  her 

staff,  still  gazing  at  her  as  if  she  were  a  rare, 

wild  animal.    Cricket  felt  somewhat  disconcerted. 

"  Yes,  I  'm  Cricket,"  she  repeated,  uncomfort- 
ably, feeling  guilty  of  something.  She  felt  as  if 


BILLY'S  PRAYER.  311 

she  were  confessing  to  being  an  alligator,  for 
instance. 

Mrs.  Maxwell  had  often  amused  the  old  woman 
by  tales  of  her  grandchildren,  and  as  Cricket 
always  had  more  accidents  and  disasters  than  all 
the  rest  of  the  family  put  together,  she  had  natu- 
rally figured  largely  in  her  grandmother's  stories. 

"  Have  —  I  —  seen  —  Miss  —  Cricket !  "  re- 
peated the  old  woman,  stretching  out  her  hand 
as  if  she  wanted  to  touch  her  to  make  sure  she 
was  flesh  and  blood.  Cricket  went  towards  her, 
rather  reluctantly.  Marm  Plunkett  laid  her 
shaking  claws  on  her  hands,  felt  of  her  arms, 
and  even  laid  the  point  of  her  withered  finger  in 
the  dimple  of  the  round,  pink  cheek.  Cricket 
winced.  She  felt  as  if  she  were  a  chicken,  which 
the  cook  was  trying,  to  see  if  it  were  tender. 

"  I — I  —  did  n't  know  you  knew  me,"  she  said, 
trying  to  be  polite  and  not  pull  away. 

"  I  —  have — seen  —  Miss  —  Cricket,"  declared 
Marm  Plunkett,  triumphantly,  at  last.  "  Who  'd 
'a'  thought  it !  She 's  come  to  see  me.  Won't 
'Cindy  be  glad  an'  proud  to  hear  of  this  honour." 

"  Dear  me ! "  said  Cricket,  trying  not  to  laugh. 
"I'd  have  come  before,  if  I'd  known  you'd 
wanted  to  see  me  so  much." 


312  CKICKET    AT    THE    SEASHOKE. 

"  Would  you  really,  my  pretty  ?  Now,  ain't 
that  sweet  of  her  ? "  admiringly,  to  Hilda. 

Hilda  sat  looking  on  in  dumb  amazement. 
She  was  so  accustomed  to  feeling  a  little  superior 
to  Cricket,  on  account  of  her  orderliness  and 
generally  good  behaviour,  that  she  was  struck 
with  surprise  at  the  old  woman's  joy  over  seeing 
her  little  friend,  while  she  sat  by  unnoticed. 
She  did  not  know  how  many  a  laugh  and  pleas- 
ant hour  the  stories  of  Cricket's  mishaps  had 
given  the  lonely  old  woman. 

"  Yer  favour  yer  ma,  I  see,"  said  Marm  Plun- 
kett,  still  holding  Cricket's  sleeve.  "  Dear ! 
dear !  she  was  a  pretty  one,  that  she  was ! 
You  've  got  shiny  eyes  like  her'n,  but  yer  hair 's 
a  mite  darker,  ain't  it  ?  My !  ain't  them  curls 
harndsonie !  "  touching  very  gently  one  of  the 
soft  rings  of  Cricket's  short  hair.  It  was  never 
regularly  curled,  but  had  a  thorough  brushing 
given  it  by  Eliza  every  morning,  and,  five  minutes 
after,  the  dampness  or  the  summer  heat  made 
her  like  a  Gloriana  McQuirk. 

Cricket  looked  dreadfully  embarrassed,  and 
had  n't  the  least  idea  what  to  say  to  this  peculiar 
old  woman,  who  repeated,  softly,  with  no  eyes 
for  the  rest : 


BILLY'S  PRAYER.  313 

"  Have  —  I  —  seen  —  Miss  —  Cricket !  " 

Fortunately,  here  a  howl  from  Zaidee  created 
a  diversion.  She  had  pushed  herself  too  far 
back  on  the  bottomless  chair,  and  had  suddenly 
doubled  up  like  a  jack-knife  into  the  hole.  As 
Hilda  and  Cricket  hastily  turned,  nothing  was 
visible  but  a  pair  of  kicking  feet,  for  her  little 
short  petticoats  had  fallen  back  over  her  head, 
entirely  extinguishing  her.  Helen  instantly  lifted 
up  her  voice  and  wept. 

Cricket  seized  Zaidee' s  feet  and  Hilda  her 
shoulders,  and  together  they  tried  to  pull  her  up. 
But  she  was  a  plump  little  thing,  and  was  so 
firmly  wedged  in,  that  the  chair  rose  as  they 
pulled  her. 

"  Billy,  come  hold  the  chair  down,  please," 
called  Cricket.  So,  with  Billy  to  brace  his  huge 
foot  on  the  round  of  the  chair,  and  to  hold  down 
the  back  with  his  hands,  Cricket  and  Hilda,  with 
another  vigorous  pull,  managed  to  undouble 
Zaidee. 

Marm  Plunkett  had  been  sitting  in  a  state  of 
great  excitement,  while  the  rescue  was  going  on, 
and  leaned  back  with  a  sigh  of  relief  when  the 
little  girl  was  finally  straightened  out.  Zaidee 
took  it  very  philosophically. 


314  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

"  Stop  crying,  Helen,"  she  said,  "  you  are 
such  a  cry-baby.  This  is  a  very  funny  chair, 
Harm  Plunkett.  How  do  people  sit  down  on 
it  ?  Do  you  like  it  that  way  ?  I  'xpect  I  'm  so 
little  that  I  can't  keep  on  the  outside  of  it.  I 
guess  I  don't  want  to  sit  down  any  more,  any 
way." 

Marm  Plunkett  cackled  a  thin,  high  laugh. 

"  Ef  children  don't  beat  the  Dutch  !  Wisht 
I  hed  some  a-runnin'  in  an'  out  to  kinder  chirk 
me  up  a  bit  when  Cindy's  away." 

"  I  want  a  drink,  please,"  announced  Zaidee. 

"  Bless  yer  leetle  heart !  You  shall  hev  a 
drink  right  outen  the  northeast  corner  of  our 
well,  where  it 's  coldest.  Take  the  dipper,  Billy, 
an'  give  the  leetle  dears  a  good  cold  drink  all 
around." 

"I  want  one,  too,"  said  Cricket,  and  all  the 
children  trooped  after  Billy. 

The  well  had   the  old-fashioned  well-sweep. 

It  was  always  a  mysterious  delight  to  the 
children  to  see  the  water  drawn  from  one  of 
these,  as  the  great  end  went  slowly  up  and 
the  bucket  dipped,  and  then  came  down  again 
with  a  stately,  dignified  sweep. 

Cricket  darted  forward. 


BILLY'S  PRAYER.  315 

"  I  've  always  wanted  to  ride  up  on  that  end," 
she  said,  to  herself,  "  and  now  I  'm  going  to." 

Quick  as  a  flash  she  had  jumped  astride  the 
end,  grasping  the  pole  with  both  hands.  George 
W.  instantly  sprang  lightly  up  in  front  of  her, 
just  out  of  her  reach,  poising  himself  with 
"  Martha"  arching  over  his  back.  The  twins 
and  Hilda,  hanging  over  the  edge  and  look- 
ing down  on  the  mossy  stones,  did  not  notice 
her. 

"  Get  it  out  of  the  northeast  corner,  she  said," 
ordered  Zaidee.  "  Which  is  the  northeast 
corner,  Billy  ?  Is  it  where  the  water  comes 
in  ?  Billy,  there  are  n't  any  corners.  It 's  all 
round." 

Billy  was  tugging  at  the  slender  pole  that  held 
the  bucket. 

"  Goes  down  hard  enough.  Seems  to  want 
ilin'  or  suthin.'  Land  o'  Jiminy  ! "  He  chanced 
to  turn  his  head  and  saw  Cricket  calmly  ascend- 
ing as  the  pole  went  higher  and  higher.  It  was 
a  wonder  he  did  not  lose  his  hold. 

"  Don't  let  go,  Billy,"  Cricket  screamed.  "  If 
you  do,  I  '11  go  kerflump" 

Billy  grasped  the  pole  tighter. 

"  You  '11  —  you  '11  fall,"  he  stammered. 


316  CKICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

"  Course  I  will  if  you  let  go.  Go  on  !  Let 
the  bucket  down.  I  'm  having  a  fine  ride.  Do 
you  like  it,  George  Washington  ?  " 

George  Washington  walked  a  step  or  two 
further  down  the  beam.  He  was  not  at  all  sure 
he  did  like  it.  As  there  did  not  seem  to  be 
room  enough  for  him  to  turn  around  and  run 
back  to  Cricket,  as  he  very  much  wanted  to  do,  he 
stood  still,  mewing  uncertainly.  Billy,  in  agony 
of  soul,  but  obedient  as  ever,  lowered  the  pole 
carefully,  casting  reproachful  glances  over  his 
shoulder.  Hilda  and  the  twins  stood  in  fasci- 
nated silence,  looking  at  Cricket  getting  such  a 
beautiful  high  ride.  As  for  George  Washington, 
as  the  pole  slanted  more  and  more,  making  his 
head  lower  and  his  rear  higher,  he  made  a  few 
despairing  steps  forward.  Lower  went  the 
bucket,  and  George  W.'s  Martha  lost  her  proud 
arch,  and  George  stuck  his  claws  deep  into  the 
wood. 

"  Oh-ee  ! "  squealed  Cricket,  suddenly  begin- 
ning to  feel  slightly  uncomfortable  herself.  The 
ground  looked  very  far  below  her,  and  she  began 
to  feel  as  if  she  were  pitching  headforemost. 
She  held  on  with  her  hands,  as  tightly  as  George 
Washington  did  with  his  claws.  Then  the 


BILLY'S  PKAYER.  31T 

bucket  hit  the  water,  splash.  Dipping  it  made 
the  big  pole  dance  a  little. 

"  Oh-ee,"  squealed  Cricket,  again,  clinging 
tighter.  "  Hurry  up,  Billy,  bring  me  down." 

"  Miau-au,"  wailed  George  Washington,  sud- 
denly, giving  a  mighty  spring  of  desperation. 
Alas !  he  missed  his  calculation,  if  he  had  time 
to  make  any,  and  disappeared  from  the  eyes  of 
the  children  into  the  dark  depths  of  the  well. 
Cricket,  forgetting  her  own  precarious  position, 
involuntarily  gave  a  little  grasp  after  him,  thus 
losing  her  own  hold,  lost  her  balance,  and 
over  she  went, —  and  if  she  had  fallen  that  fif- 
teen feet  to  the  hard  ground  below,  it  might 
have  brought  to  a  sudden  end  her  summer  at 
Marbury. 

As  it  fortunately  happened,  however,  she 
caught  at  the  pole  as  she  went  over,  grasped 
it,  and  hung  suspended  by  her  strong  little 
hands.  Frightened  Billy  had  been  holding  the 
smaller  pole  all  this  time,  in  a  vise-like  grip. 

"  Let  me  down !  "  screamed  Cricket.  "  Care- 
fully, Billy ! "  and  Billy,  stiff  with  terror,  nev- 
ertheless had  the  sense  to  obey.  He  raised  the 
small  pole  steadily,  lest  the  other,  with  Cricket's 
added  weight,  should  come  down  too  fast.  In 


318  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

a  moment  more  she  was  near  enough  to  the 
ground  to  drop  lightly  down. 

A  tremendous  splashing  and  mewing  had  been 
going  on  in  the  well,  but  the  children  had  been 
too  much  absorbed  in  Cricket  to  notice  it. 

"  Tis  n't  as  much  fun  as  I  thought  it  would 
be,"  was  all  she  said,  as  she  darted  forward  to 
look  down  the  well  after  her  pet.  "  Let  the 
bucket  down  again,  Billy,  and  see  if  he  '11  cling 
to  it.  Oh,  you  poor,  poor  George  Washington. 
Billy,  do  hurry  up  !  Why,  he '11  drown" 

But  Billy  had  given  out.  He  was  so  thor- 
oughly frightened  when  he  discovered  Cricket 
on  her  lofty  perch,  that,  now  that  she  was  safely 
down,  he  was  shaking  like  a  leaf.  Cricket 
pushed  him  unceremoniously  away,  as  she 
peered  down. 

George  Washington  looked  like  a  good -sized 
muskrat,  as  they  saw  him  clinging  to  the  wet, 
mossy  stones,  meowing  pitifully.  He  was  either 
too  frightened  or  too  cold  to  make  any  effort  to 
climb  up.  Perhaps  he  could  not  have  done  so 
anyway.  Cricket  lowered  the  bucket  again  her- 
self, till  it  struck  the  water.  The  splash  seemed 
to  frighten  George  Washington  only  the  more, 
for  his  cries  were  redoubled. 


BILLY'S  PKAYEE.  319 

"What  a  stupid  cat!"  cried  Hilda.  "Why 
does  n't  he  take  hold  and  come  up  ? " 

"  He  's  frightened  to  death  down  there  in  the 
cold.  He 's  never  stupid,  are  you,  George  W.  ? 
I  'm  so  afraid  he  '11  die  of  getting  wet  and  cold 
before  we  can  save  him ! "  cried  Cricket,  anx- 
iously, flopping  the  bucket  about.  "Do  take 
hold  of  it,  George  !  dear  George,  do ! " 

But  Cricket's  most  coaxing  tones  availed 
nothing.  George  only  meowed  and  meowed 
in  accents  that  grew  more  pitiful  every  minute. 

"Do  run  and  tell  Marm  Plunkett  that  the 
kitten 's  in  the  well,  Hilda,"  said  Cricket,  at 
last.  "  Perhaps  she  '11  know  something  to  do. 
Look  out,  children !  don't  lean  over  so  far,  else 
the  first  thing  you  know  you  '11  be  down  there, 
too.  Oh,  George  Washington,  please  take 
hold!" 

Hilda  ran  off,  and  came  back  a  moment  later 
with  rather  a  scared  face. 

"  I  told  her,  Cricket,  and  what  do  you  think 
she  said  ?  That  we  must  be  sure  not  to  let  it 
die  there,  'cause  it  would  poison  the  water !  She 
seemed  dreadfully  frightened  about  it,  and  tried 
to  get  up,  but  of  course  she  could  n't,  and  then 
she  said — she  said — she'd  pray  for  us."  Hilda' s 


320  CKICKET    AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

voice  sank  to  an  awed  whisper.  Cricket  looked 
blank. 

Billy  caught  up  the  word  eagerly. 

"Yes,,  yes,  children,  that's  right  o'  Marm 
Plunkett.  It 's  allers  good  to  pray,"  and  down 
went  simple  old  Billy  on  his  knees.  "  You  keep 
on  a-danglin'  that  ere  bucket,  and  I  '11  pray  fur 
ye,  young  uns.  That  '11  fetch  him."  He  clasped 
his  hands  and  shut  his  earnest  eyes. 

The  children  stood  in  awed  silence.  Billy, 
swaying  back  and  forth  in  his  eagerness,  began 
in  a  high-keyed  voice,  sounding  unlike  his  ordi- 
nary tones : 

"  '  How  dothe  the  little  busy  bee 

Improve  each  shining  hour  ; 

And  gather  honey  all  the  day 

From  every  fragrant  flower' — Amen." 

Poor  old  Billy !  this  scrap  of  a  rhyme,  learned 
in  his  far  -  away  boyhood,  was  the  one  bit  that 
had  stuck  in  his  clouded  mind  all  these  years, 
and  had  served  this  pious  soul  for  a  prayer  ever 
since.  Every  night,  kneeling  reverently  by  his 
bedside,  he  had  said  it,  and  every  morning 
when  he  arose ;  only  then  he  added  the  petition, 
"  God  bless  Mrs.  Maxwell,  and  make  Billy 
good." 


BILLY'S  PKAYER.  321 

Cricket  and  Hilda,  too  much  amazed  to  speak, 
but  too  much  impressed  with  Billy's  earnestness 
to  laugh,  stood  stock-still  as  they  were ;  Hilda 
in  the  act  of  stretching  out  her  hands  to  draw 
Zaidee  back  from  the  well  -  curb,  —  where  she 
hung,  in  imminent  danger  of  following  George 
W.,  —  and  Cricket,  still  grasping  the  pole,  and 
looking  back  over  her  shoulder,  and  Helen 
staring  with  her  great  eyes. 

As  Billy  ceased,  there  was  an  oppressive  mo- 
ment of  silence.  He  remained  on  his  knees, 
swaying  his  gaunt  frame  slightly,  with  his  eyes 
still  closed.  Suddenly  Cricket  felt  the  bucket 
lurch  as  it  lay  on  the  surface  of  the  water  below. 
She  looked  quickly  over  the  well-curb. 

"  Oh,  Hilda !  Billy,  hurrah !  he 's  climbed  upon 
the  bucket  at  last !  He 's  way  up  on  it.  Now, 
we  '11  have  him  ! "  and  with  Hilda  to  help,  she 
began  cautiously  to  raise  the  bucket. 

Billy  slowly  got  up  from  the  ground,  and 
dusted  off  his  trouser  knees. 

"  It 's  allers  wuth  while  a-prayin'  for  things," 
he  remarked. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  bucket  was  on  a  level 
with  the  well-curb,  and  while  Hilda  held  the 
pole,  Cricket  drew  out  her  dripping,  shivering 
pet. 


322  CEICKET    AT   THE    SEASHORE. 

Such  a  rubbing  as  he  got  in  Marm  Plunkett's 
little  kitchen !  He  was  very  much  exhausted 
with  his  cold  bath,  and  I  'm  afraid  that  a  very 
few  minutes  longer  in  the  icy  water  would  have 
ended  one  of  George  Washington's  nine  lives. 

"  All  the  curl  has  gone  out  of  Martha,  even," 
remarked  Cricket,  mournfully,  surveying  his 
straight  tail. 

"  His  tail  will  curl  over  again,  when  he  begins 
to  chirk  up  a  bit,"  said  Marm  Plunkett,  comfort- 
ingly. "  He  'd  orter  hev  a  dish  of  milk  het  up  for 
him  right  away,"  she  added.  "  Wisht  I  hed 
some  to  offer  you." 

"  I  '11  go  right  home  with  him,  then,  Marm 
Plunkett,  and  I  '11  run  all  the  way.  I  '11  borrow 
this  little  shawl  of  yours,  if  you  '11  let  me,  to  keep 
him  warm.  Now,  I  'm  going  to  run,  but  the  rest 
of  you  need  n't  come  so  fast.  Good-by,  Marm 
Plunkett.  I  '11  come  and  see  you  again,  some 
other  day;"  and  off  darted  Cricket,  followed 
more  leisurely  by  the  rest,  leaving  Marm  Plun- 
kett still  murmuring, — 

"  Have  —  I  —  seen  —  Miss  —  Cricket !  " 


CHAPTER  XXII. 
HELEN'S  TEXT. 

"  OH,  dear  me  !  "  sighed  Eunice,  dolefully,  the 
next  morning  at  breakfast.  "  What  dreadful 
changes  there  are  going  to  be !  Hilda  goes  to- 
day, the  boys  leave  on  Monday  for  their  camp, 
and  Edna  goes  on  Tuesday  to  her  grandmother's. 
Cricket  and  I  will  be  left  all  forlorn." 

"  Yes,"  added  Cricket,  pulling  a  long  face, 
"  and  on  Tuesday  morning  Eunice  and  I  will  be 
wearing  the  garbage  of  woe." 

"  Whatever  you  rig  yourself  up  in,  Miss 
Scricket,"  said  Archie,  amid  the  general  laugh- 
ter, "  don't  deck  yourself  out  in  garbage.  You'd 
be  a  public  nuisance.  Flowing  '  robes  of  porce- 
lain,' like  the  heroine  of  one  of  your  stories, 
would  be  better." 

"  You  need  n't  tease  me  a,bout  that,  for  you 
know  as  well  as  anything  that  I  meant  perca- 
line" 

But  Auntie  Jean  and  grandma  had  to  enjoy 
this  alone,  for  the  boys  were  not  equal  to  the  fine 
distinctions  of  girl's  apparel. 


324  CRICKET    AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

As  Eunice  said,  there  was  a  decided  scatter- 
ing of  their  little  party.  Hilda  left  Saturday 
afternoon,  the  boys  departed  on  Monday,  for 
their  camp  in  the  Maine  woods,  with  a  party  of 
friends,  and  on  Tuesday  Edna  had  to  go  for  her 
usual  fortnight's  visit  to  her  grandmother 
Somers,  who  always  spent  July  and  August  at 
Lake  Clear.  She  was  a  very  old  lady,  much 
older  than  Grandma  Maxwell,  and  a  good  deal 
of  an  invalid.  Edna  much  preferred  staying 
with  her  cousins,  but  Grandmother  Somers  was 
very  devoted  to  her  only  little  granddaughter, 
and  this  was  the  particular  time  when  she 
wanted  her.  Edna  had  never  been  there  with- 
out her  mother  before,  and  really  dreaded  it. 
She  had  urged  taking  her  cousins  with  her,  but 
Anntie  Jean  knew  this  would  be  altogether  too 
much  responsibility  for  so  old  a  lady  to  have, 
since  she  herself  could  not  leave  Marbury. 

"  I  hate  to  go  like  poison,"  sighed  Edna  to 
Eunice,  as  they  strolled  up  and  down  the  station 
platform,  while  waiting  for  the  train.  "  I  wish 
I  could  stay  here.  I  wish  grandma  was  n't  so 
fond  of  me.  I  wish  you  could  come,  too.  I 
wish  the  two  weeks  were  over.  I  wish  — 

"  Toot  -  to  -  toot !  "  whistled  the  approaching 
train. 


HELEN'S  TEXT.  325 

"  Horrid  old  thing  !  I  wish  it  would  run  off 
the  track !  Wish  Mrs.  Abbott  would  forget  to 
start  this  morning.  She  isn't  here  yet.  Do 
you  suppose  she's  forgotten?"  with  sudden 
hopefulness. 

Mrs.  Abbott  was  a  lady  under  whose  care  she 
was  going. 

"No  such  good  luck!"  murmured  Eunice. 
"  There  she  is  now.  Write  to  me  every  day, 
Edna." 

"  And  you  '11  have  time  to  write  some 
lovely  stories  for  the  '  Echo,' "  chirped  Cricket, 
encouragingly. 

"  Yes,  I  will,  and  be  glad  too.  It  will  be 
something  to  do.  Think  of  my  saying  I'd  be 
glad  to  write  stories !  Yes,  mamma  —  good-by, 
everybody,"  and  with  hugs  and  kisses  all  around, 
Edna  was  put  on  the  train  and  was  off. 

The  children  were  both  very  quiet  on  their 
return  ride  from  the  station,  and  Auntie  Jean 
began  to  fear  that  they  might  be  homesick,  with 
all  their  playmates  gone.  But  when  they  reached 
home  again  Cricket  drew  Eunice  into  a  quiet 
corner,  and  surprised  her  by  flinging  her  arms 
around  her  neck,  with  a  gigantic  hug. 

"I  do  love  Hilda  and  Edna,"  she  said,  "but 


326  CKICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

there  's  nobody  like  my  old  Eunice,  and  I  'm  so 
glad  to  have  you  all  to  myself  for  a  little  while 
again.  I  don't  want  to  be  selfish,  and  poor 
Edna  has  n't  any  sister,  but  — 

"  Why,  you  poor  little  thing  ! "  said  Eunice, 
hugging  her  small  sister,  heartily.  "I  expect 
I've  been  very  selfish.  I  've  never  thought  that, 
perhaps,  you  were  being  lonely  when  I  was 
so  much  with  Edna.  You  always  seemed  so 
happy." 

"  Oh,  I  am  happy  I "  answered  Cricket,  sur- 
prised. "  I  always  am,  I  guess.  But  I  do  love 
to  be  with  you,  all  by  your  lonesome,  and  now 
let 's  have  some  real  old  Kayuna  times.  Come 
down  on  the  beach,  and  let 's  talk  about  it,"  with 
another  squeeze.  And  then,  with  their  arms 
about  each  other's  waists,  they  ran  down  the 
yard. 

On  the  small  sloping  beach  behind  the  -big 
rocks,  Zaidee  and  Helen  and  Kenneth  were 
playing  by  themselves.  Helen  and  Kenneth 
were  sitting  up  very  straight  and  stiff,  with  their 
little  legs  out  straight  in  front  of  them,  and 
their  small  hands  folded  in  their  laps.  They 
were  listening  with  intent  faces,  and  round,  wide- 
open  eyes,  to  Zaidee,  who,  with  small  forefinger 


HELEN'S  TEXT.  327 

uplifted,  was  telling  them  something,  with  a 
very  serious  face.  The  girls  crept  softly  near 
to  see  what  they  were  doing. 

"  And  these  naughty  chiPen,"  went  on  Zaidee, 
"  came  out  of  the  city,  and  they  made  lots  of  fun 
of  Lishers,  and  they  ran  after  him,  an'  kept  call- 
ing him  names,  an'  saying,  '  Go  up,  ole  bull- 
head !  go  up,  ole  bullhead ! '  An'  Lishers  got 
very  angry  —  as  angry  as  Luke  did  the  other 
day,  when  I  asked  him  if  he  liked  to  have  such 
mixed-up  eyes,"  (poor  Luke  was  very  cross-eyed, 
and  very  sensitive  about  it),  "  and  he  said, 
'  There 's  some  gre-at  big  bears  in  these  woods, 
'n'  I'll  call  'em  to  come  and  eat  you  chil'en 
up,  if  you  doesn't  stop  calling  names.  Only 
bad  little  chil'en,  'thout  any  one  to  tell  'em  any 
better,  calls  names.'  But  they  didn't  one  of 
'em  stop,  an'  Lishers  just  whistled,  an'  forty-two 
bears  came  trotting  right  out  of  the  woods,  an' 
eated  —  up — every  —  one  —  of  —  those — bad — 
chil'en,  quicker 'n  scat.  'Liza  said  so,  herself. 
So,  Helen  and  Kenneth,  you  mustn't  ever  call 
any  one  any  names,  an'  specially  you  mustn't 
call  'em  '  bullheads,'  cause  bears  will  come  out 
of  the  woods  an'  eat  you  all  up,  and  it 's  very 
unpolite,  too." 


328  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

Helen  looked  awed,  and  Kenneth  unbelieving. 

"  Ain't  any  bears,"  he  said,  stoutly. 

"  You  must  n't  inkerrupt  the  Sunday  school," 
said  Zaidee,  severely.  "  Any  way,  there  are 
crocky-dolls,  if  there  ain't  any  bears.  I  saw  a 
funny,  long  thing  come  out  of  the  water  the 
other  day,  and  'Liza  said  she  guessed  it  was  a 
crocky-doll." 

"  Tould  it  eat  me  up  ? "  demanded  Kenneth, 
hastily. 

"  I  don't  think  it  could  eat  you  all  up  at 
once,"  said  Zaidee,  cautiously;  "but  it  might 
take  bites  out  of  you." 

"  What  are  you  doing,  children  ?  "  said  Eunice, 
coming  forward,  and  throwing  herself  on  the 
sand  beside  them,  and  pulling  Helen,  her  special 
pet,  down  into  her  arms. 

"  Playing  Sunday  school,  Eunice,"  said  Zai- 
dee, sitting  down,  herself.  "  We  're  going  to 
have  a  Sunday  school  every  Tuesday  afternoon, 
just  the  same  as  you  have  the  Echo  Club,  you 
know.  Helen's  going  to  make  up  the  texts. 
She  makes  up  beautiful  texts,  just  like  the 
Bible." 

"Why,  Zaidee!"  remonstrated  Eunice,  look- 
ing shocked.  "  You  must  n't  say  that  anything 


HELEN'S  TEXT.  329 

is  as  nice  as  the  Bible.  What  was  it,  pet- 
tikins?" 

But  Helen  was  shy,  and  needed  much  coaxing 
before  she  could  be  persuaded  to  give  her  "  text," 
which  was  a  very  practical  one. 

"  She  who  doth  not  what  she  is  told,  gets 
worse." 

"  Bravo ! "  cried  Eunice,  laughing.  "  That  is 
a  fine  text." 

"  She  made  it  up  all  her  own  self,"  said 
Zaidee,  quite  as  proud  of  her  twin's  performance 
as  if  it  had  been  her  own. 

"  I  don't  want  to  play  Sunday  school  any 
more,  Zaidee,"  said  Kenneth,  getting  up.  "  I  'd 
rawer  play  turch.  I'm  ze  talking  man,  wiv 
white  skirts  on,"  he  added,  standing  on  a  stone, 
and  waving  his  short  arms  about,  for  the  young 
man  had  made  his  first  appearance  at  church  the 
Sunday  before,  and  had  wanted  to  play  "  turch  " 
ever  since. 

"  You  were  a  naughty  boy,"  said  Zaidee,  re- 
proachfully, "you  talked  out  loud  right  in 
meetin'-church,  and  I  was  so  'shamed." 

"And  you  failed  off  the  stool  when  all  the 
people  were  kneeling  down  and  saying,  '  The 
seats  they  do  hear  us,  0  Lord ; '  and  you  made 


330  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

a  great  big  noise,"  added  Helen,  severely,  for 
her. 

" '  The  seats  they  do  hear  us,' "  repeated 
Cricket.  "  What  does  she  mean,  Eunice,  do  you 
suppose  ? " 

"  Why,  don't  you  know,  Cricket,"  explained 
Helen,  for  herself.  "  When  all  the  people  are 
kneeling  down,  and  the  minister  keeps  saying 
things,  and  the  people  keep  saying, '  The  seats 
they  do  hear  us,'  'course  they  hear  them,  'cause 
they  say  it  right  at  the  back  of  the  seats." 

Eunice  and  Cricket  shouted  with  laughter. 

"  She  means, '  We  beseech  Thee  to  hear  us,' " 
cried  Cricket,  choking,  quite  as  if  she  never 
made  any  mistakes  on  her  own  account.  But 
other  people's  mistakes  are  so  different  from 
our  own.  Helen,  her  sensitive  feelings  dread- 
fully hurt,  instantly  retired  under  her  apron,  and 
refused  to  be  comforted.  They  always  had  to 
be  careful  about  laughing  at  Helen,  whereas 
Zaidee  never  seemed  to  mind. 

"  Never  mind,  pet,"  said  Eunice,  kissing  and 
petting  her.  "  It  was  n't  a  very  bad  mis- 
take." 

"  What 's  this  ?  "  said  Cricket,  to  change  the 
subject.  She  had  been  plunging  her  arm  down 


HELEN'S  TEXT.  331 

deep  in  the  sand,  and  had  struck  something  big 
and  bony.  She  cleared  away  the  loose  sand. 

"  That 's  our  cemi-terror,"  explained  Zaidee  ; 
"  we  'd  been  having  a  frinyal  before  we  had  Sun- 
day school,  and  we  buried  that  thing.  We  finded 
it  in  the  field  the  other  day.  Let 's  pull  it  up 
now,  Helen.  We  've  had  lots  of  frinyals,  Cricket, 
and  we  've  buried  ever  so  many  things  in  our 
cemi-terror.  Turkles  and  things  like  that,  you 
know." 

Cricket,  with  some  difficulty,  extricated  the 
object.  It  was  a  great  skull  of  a  cow,  bleached 
as  white  as  snow. 

"  'Liza  says  it  was  a  cow,  once,"  observed  Zai- 
dee, poking  her  fingers  in  the  big  holes  where  the 
eyes  once  were.  "  It  was  a  pretty  funny  cow,  1 
think.  She  says  it  has  undressed  all  its  flesh  off, 
and  we  're  all  like  that  inside.  But  I  'm  not, 
see  ?  "  and  Zaidee  opened  her  mouth  wide  and 
offered  it  for  inspection.  "  Mine 's  all  red  inside." 

"  Mamma  says  we  're  made  of  dust,"  said 
Helen,  thoughtfully.  "  If  we  're  made  out  of 
dust,  I  don't  see  why  we  don't  get  all  muddy 
inside  when  we  drink." 

"  I  guess  that 's  why  my  hands  get  so  dirty," 
said  Zaidee,  suddenly,  looking  at  her  small,  grimy 


332  CKICKET   AT    THE    SEASHOKE. 

palms  with  close  attention.  "  I  guess  it  sifts 
right  through  my  skin.  Course  I  can't  keep 
clean  when  it  keeps  sifting  through  all  the  time, 
and  'Liza  says  she  don't  see  how  I  get  myself  so 
dirty,"  with  a  funny  imitation  of  Eliza's  tones. 
"  I  'm  going  to  tell  her  I  can't  help  it.  If  she 
keeps  scrubbing  me  as  fast  as  it  comes  out,  it 
may  get  all  used  up  inside  of  me  sometime," 
went  on  Zaidee,  who  was  nothing  if  not  logical. 

Helen  thoughtfully  squeezed  Eunice's  arm, 
trying  to  squeeze  some  dust  out,  she  said. 

"  Yours  is  all  used  up,  I  guess,"  she  concluded, 
as  she  met  with  no  success. 

Cricket  set  the  skull  upon  the  high  stone 
which  Kenneth  had  been  using  for  a  pulpit. 

"  Look,  Eunice  !  It  looks  just  like  an  idol, 
sitting  up  there  and  grinning.  Oh,  let 's  play 
we  're  idollers  ourselves  and  worship  it !  We  '11 
build  a  shrine  for  it,  and  we  '11  offer  it  sacrifices. 
Come  on !  "  and  Cricket,  with  her  usual  energy, 
fell  to  work  instantly,  building  stones  up  for  an 
altar. 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 

THE     JABBERWOCK. 

"  LET  me  help  build  up  the  shrime,  too,"  said 
Zaidee,  bringing  up  stones  also.  "  I  want  to 
offer  sacrumfices." 

"  You  and  Helen  bring  a  lot  of  dried  seaweed 
to  decorate  it,"  said  Cricket,  working  busily. 
"  That 's  right,  Kenneth.  Bring  all  the  pretty 
shells  you  can,  and  we  '11  put  them  all  around 
the  sides.  Look,  Eunice  !  does  n't  it  look  fine 
already ! " 

They  had  built  up  the  "  shrime "  to  a  large 
square  pile,  about  two  feet  high,  on  the  top  of 
which  the  grinning  skull  reposed.  The  dry  sea- 
weed draped  the  rough  stones,  and  Kenneth's 
shells  were  arranged  about  it. 

"  Now  we  must  begin  to  offer  sacrifices,"  said 
Cricket.  "  We  must  have  dishevelled  hair, 
Eunice,  as  the  women  always  do  in  stories.  I 
can't  muss  mine  up  much  more  than  it  always 
is,"  regretfully,  "  but  you  can  take  your  braid 
out,  and  throw  your  hair  all  around.  Oh,  that 's 
lovely!"  as  Eunice  loosened  her  heavy,  dark 


334  CKICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

braid,  and  threw  the  long,  straight  masses 
all  about.  "How  beautifully  dishevelled  you 
are ! " 

"  I  'm  glad  I  don't  have  to  offer  sacrifices 
every  day,"  laughed  Eunice,  "for  dishevelled 
hair  is  not  comfortable,  at  least  as  dishevelled  as 
this.  Perhaps  I  would  n't  mind  a  little  bit  of  it." 

"  Come  here,  Zaidee,  if  you  wish  to  join  the  pro- 
cession," and  Eunice  caught  her  small  sister, 
and  rubbed  her  hands  vigorously  over  her  short, 
soft,  straight  hair,  till  it  fairly  stood  on  end. 
Helen's  hair  curled  like  Cricket's,  in  a  golden, 
fluffy  mass. 

"  Now,  we  're  all  ready.  We  must  march  up 
before  the  shrine,  and  lay  our  sacrifices  at  the 
feet  of  the  idol,  and  bow  down  before  it." 

"  It  has  n't  any  foots,"  observed  Zaidee. 

"  Well,  before  its  mouth,  then.  It 's  just  as 
'propriate,  I  guess.  Come  over  here,  and  get 
into  line,  Eunice.  You  go  first  and  I  '11  follow, 
and  the  children  will  come  on  behind.  We 
must  go  up  with  weeping  and  wailing  and  gnash- 
ing our  teeth,"  said  Cricket,  getting  Biblical. 

"  How  do  you  gnash  your  tooths  ? "  inquired 
Helen. 

"  I  '11  show  you,"  said  Cricket,  immediately 


THE    JABBERWOCK.  335 

rolling  her  eyes,  and  opening  and  shutting  her 
mouth  with  such  fearful  snaps  of  her  teeth,  that 
Helen  instantly  retreated  behind  Zaidee  for  pro- 
tection. "  Clutch  your  hair  with  both  hands,  this 
way,  and  get  into  procession." 

"  Yes,  but  where  's  the  sacrifice  ? "  asked 
Eunice,  suddenly  recollecting  this  important 
part  of  the  ceremony. 

"I  declare!  I  forgot  all  about  it!  What 
shall  we  sacrifice  ? " 

"  We  finded  a  little  dead  mouse  in  the  wood- 
shed after  breakfast,"  said  Zaidee.  "  We  were 
going  to  give  him  to  George  Washington  for 
dessert  to-day.  We  buried  it  in  the  cemi-terror 
to  keep  till  it  was  dinner-time." 

"  That  will  do.  Dig  it  up.  George  Washing- 
ton can  sacrifice  his  mouse." 

While  Zaidee  was  unearthing  George  W.'s 
intended  dessert,  Cricket  had  found  a  shingle  for 
a  bier.  They  made  a  bed  of  seaweed  on  it,  and 
stretched  the  little  dead  mouse  thereon. 

"  I  've  an  idea !  "  exclaimed  Eunice.  "  Let 's 
call  the  idol  the  Jabberwock,  and  sing  the  Jabber- 
wock  song  as  we  go  up." 

"  Splendid ! "  cried  Cricket,  clapping  her 
hands.  "  How  does  it  go  ? 


336  CKICKET    AT    THE    SEASHOKE. 

"  '  Beware  the  Jabberwock,  my  son, 

With  jaws  that  bite  and  claws  that  catch.' 

"  Is  n't  that  it  ? " 

"  That 's  the  second  verse,"  said  Eunice 
"  Don't  you  remember, 

"  <  'T  was  brillig,  and  the  slimy  sea — ? ' " 

"  Yes,  now  I  do.     All  ready." 

So  the  procession  formed  itself  anew.  Zaidee 
and  Helen  bore  the  shingle-bier  in  front,  Eunice 
and  Cricket  came  behind,  tearing  their  hair,  and 
chanting  in  doleful  tones  how 

"  The  Jabberwock,  with  eyes  of  flame, 
Came  whiffling  through  the  tulgey  wood, 
And  burbled  as  it  came !  " 

Then,  with  appropriate  ceremonies,  they 
offered  up  the  mouse  to  the  Jabberwock,  and 
then,  joining  hands,  they  danced  around  it, 
howling  and  shrieking. 

"  More !  more  !  "  growled  Cricket,  in  awful 
tones,  that  were  supposed  to  come  from  the 
yawning  throat  of  the  Jabberwock.  The  smaller 
children,  by  this  time,  were  wildly  excited,  and 
ready  to  offer  up  all  their  possessions. 

"  You  may  have  my  Crumples,"  screamed 
Zaidee,  making  a  dive  for  a  little  white  china 


THE    JABBERWOCK.  337 

cat  that  lay  near  by  with  a  pile  of  other  play- 
things that  the  children  had  been  playing  with. 

"  We  must  stone  it  to  pieces  first,"  said 
Cricket,  "  and  offer  up  the  ashes,"  and  soon 
the  china  cat  lay  in  fragments,  and  its  "  ashes  " 
were  offered  up. 

"Let's  take  this  old  rubber -baby  of  Ken- 
neth's," proposed  Cricket.  "You  don't  care 
for  it,  do  you,  baby  ?  It  has  a  hole  in  its 
head." 

Kenneth  looked  doubtfully  at  his  beloved 
Jacob  for  a  moment,  and  then,  quite  carried 
away  by  the  excitement  of  the  occasion,  he 
cried  out,  valiantly : 

"  You  may  have  Dacob  for  ze  Dabberwock." 

One  by  one  all  the  children's  small  posses- 
sions lay  before  the  jaws  of  the  Jabberwock. 

"  Oh,  Eunice !  children !  let 's  have  a  fire,  and 
burn  up  all  these  sacrifices  to  the  Jabberwock. 
Think  what  a  lovely  thing  he  'd  think  that  is ! 
Idols  always  love  to  have  scenes  of  devastination 
and  ruin  all  about." 

"  I  'm  afraid  that  would  n't  be  safe,"  said 
Eunice,  hesitating.  "  Would  auntie  like  it  ?  " 

"Oh,  she  wouldn't  care.  What  harm? 
Nothing  could  get  on  fire  out  here  on  the 


338  CRICKET    AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

sands,  could  there  ?  Of  course,  we  would  n't 
if  it  was  near  the  house  anywhere.  I  '11  go 
and  get  the  matches,"  and  off  she  darted  like 
a  flash. 

"  Oh,  are  we  going  to  have  a  fire,  and  burn  up 
the  shrime?"  cried  Zaidee.  "Goody!  goody! 
what  fun !  they  're  going  to  burn  up  the 
shrime ! " 

Cricket  flew  back  with  a  match-box  in  her 
hand. 

"  Now,  get  lots  of  dry  seaweed,  children,"  she 
ordered,  "  and  we  '11  heap  it  around  the  pile,  and 
tuck  it  under  the  pile  of  sacrifices,  so  they  '11  burn 
better.  Oh,  won't  that  make  a  blaze ! "  and 
Cricket  danced  about  in  anticipation.  "There, 
Jabberwock !  I  hope  you  '11  be  '  tentified,'  as 
Zaidee  says.  Stand  back,  children.  Come, 
Eunice,  and  we  '11  march  up  singing,  and  lay 
our  offering  of  a  lighted  match  down  before 
him,"  and  Cricket,  chanting  another  verse  of  the 
"  Jabberwock,"  pranced  up  and  struck  a  match. 

The  dry  seaweed  was  instantly  aflame,  curling 
and  leaping  like  a  live  thing,  around  the  pile  of 
stone.  The  children,  dancing  around  and  clap- 
ping their  hands,  screamed  in  ecstasy  at  the 
sight. 


THE    JABBEEWOCK.  339 

"  Bring  more  seaweed,"  called  Cricket,  piling 
on  all  she  had,  to  keep  up  the  darting  flames. 
The  fire  went  springing  up,  licking  the  white 
bones  of  the  Jabberwock.  In  their  excitement 
the  younger  children  scarcely  noticed  that  their 
treasures  were  actually  burning  up,  also,  till 
Kenneth  suddenly  caught  sight  of  his  "  Dacob," 
writhing,  and  curling,  and  jumping  about  in  the 
most  uncanny  way,  as  if  in  mortal  agony.  The 
poor  baby  darted  forward  to  rescue  it. 

"It'shurted  Dacob!  He's  all  wiggly!"  he 
cried,  and  he  tried  to  snatch  his  best  beloved 
doll  from  the  flames.  Eunice  caught  him  back. 

"  Don't  touch,  baby.  It  will  burn  you.  Ja- 
cob can't  feel  it,  and  I  '11  buy  you  another." 

"  He  does  feel  it.  It 's  hurted  him,"  cried 
Kenneth,  struggling  to  get  away.  With  the 
sudden  spring  he  made,  Eunice  lost  hold  of  him, 
and  he  made  a  snatch  at  the  burning  sacrifice. 
A  long  tongue  of  flame  leaped  up,  caught  like 
a  live  thing  the  baby's  linen  dress,  and  in  an 
instant  he  was  enveloped  in  flames. 

For  one  horrible  moment  the  other  children 
stood  paralyzed  with  fright.  Not  to  the  longest 
day  she  lives  will  Cricket  forget  the  awful  ter- 
ror of  that  moment,  as  the  thought  surged  up 


340  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

that,  whatever  happened,  it  was  all  her  fault 
Then,  with  a  wild  scream,  to  which  all  her  previ- 
ous ones  had  been  as  whispers,  she  darted  for- 
ward. Kenneth,  blind  with  terror  and  pain,  beat 
at  the  flames  with  his  tiny  hands,  and  ran  shriek- 
ing down  the  beach,  fanning  the  fire  to  a  brighter 
blaze. 

Cricket  was  upon  him  in  a  moment.  She 
flung  both  her  arms  closely  around  him,  stop- 
ping his  struggles,  but  the  eager  flames  caught 
her  own  light  dress  as  she  did  so.  Then  away 
she  dashed,  down  over  the  few  steps  of  beach 
between  herself  and  the  incoming  tide,  and,  with 
him  in  her  arms,  threw  herself  forward  in  the 
water.  As  she  rolled  over  and  over,  the  sullen 
flames  hissed  and  died. 

Eunice  was  close  behind  her,  shrieking  for 
help.  It  was  nearly  high  tide,  and  the  beach 
sloped  a  little  more  abruptly  there  than  in  most 
places.  Cricket  rose  to  her  knees  with  Kenneth 
in  her  arms,  stumbled  and  fell  forward  again, 
face  downward,  limp  with  the  excitement  and 
the  strain.  Eunice,  knee-deep  in  water,  dragged 
them  both  up,  and,  between  pulling  and  half  car- 
rying, got  them  to  the  water's  edge,  just  as 
Auntie  Jean,  and  Eliza,  and  Luke,  came  running 


THE    JABBERWOCK.  341 

from  different  directions.  The  flames,  still  fit- 
fully shooting  up  from  the  smouldering  seaweed, 
told  the  story. 

"Run  for  the  doctor,  Luke,"  cried  Auntie 
Jean,  wasting  no  time  in  questions,  as  she  lifted 
little  drenched,  burned  Kenneth  tenderly  in  her 
arms,  and  flew  with  him  towards  the  house,  leav- 
ing Eliza  to  help  Cricket.  Kenneth's  clothes 
were  so  badly  burned  that  they  fell  off  from  him 
when  she  laid  him  down.  He  was  a  dreadful 
sight,  with  his  golden  curls  all  gone,  his  face 
blackened  with  smoke  and  soot,  which  the  water 
had  only  washed  off  in  streaks.  It  was  impossi- 
ble for  her  to  tell,  at  first,  how  much  he  was 
injured.  Fortunately,  the  doctor  came  almost 
immediately. 

It  was  an  anxious  hour  that  followed.  Ken- 
neth's most  serious  burns  were  on  his  arms  and 
body,  for,  while  the  golden  curls  were  nearly 
gone,  his  poor  little  face  was,  by  some  fortunate 
chance,  only  slightly  burned,  since,  as  he  ran 
forward,  his  curls  had  blown  back.  Cricket  was 
burned  quite  severely  on  her  arms  and  hands, 
where  she  had  clasped  and  held  him. 

After  their  wounds  were  dressed  and  bandaged, 
and  Kenneth,  a  little  mummy-like  bundle  of  old 


342  CRICKET    AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

white  linen,  lay  asleep,  worn  out  with  pain  and 
excitement,  Auntie  Jean  found  Cricket  sobbing 
quietly  under  the  sheet. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  dear  ? "  asked  auntie, 
tenderly.  "  Are  you  in  such  pain  ? "  for  she 
knew  that  Cricket  was  a  little  Spartan  in  respect 
to  suffering. 

"  Yes,  no-o,"  sobbed  Cricket.  "  The  pain  is 
bad,  but  I  don't  care  for  that.  My  —  conscience 
—  aches  —  so  —  here.  I  —  can't  —  stand  —  it, 
auntie.  I  ought  to  have  been  all  burned  up  my- 
self. I  oughtn't  to  have  had  a  fire.  I  knew 
better,  only  I  just  thought  what  fun  it  would  be. 
To  think  the  baby  is  burned,  and  all  through  my 
horrid  badness ! " 

"  My  poor  little  girl !  "  said  Auntie  Jean,  piti- 
fully. "  That  is  the  hardest  of  all  for  you  to 
bear,  I  well  know.  But  after  all,  dear,  you  can 
comfort  yourself  by  thinking  that,  but  for  your 
quickness,  the  little  fellow  must  have  burned  to 
death.  You  saved  his  life,  after  all.  You  did 
what  should  have  been  done,  so  quickly." 

"  That  is  n't  much  comfort,"  sobbed  Cricket. 
"  He  ought  n't  to  be  burned  at  ah1.  Anybody 
would  have  thought  to  throw  him  in  the  water." 

"  I  'm  not  sure  of  that.     In  excitement  people 


THE    JABBERWOCK.  343 

do  not  always  use  their  wits  —  especially  chil- 
dren. Even  Eunice,  thoughtful  as  she  usually  is, 
was  behind  you." 

"  And  I  sprained  grandma's  ankle,  too.  I 
ought  to  be  put  in  prison,"  went  on  Cricket,  in 
a  fresh  deluge  of  remorse. 

"  Nobody  blamed  you  for  that,  dearie,  though 
you  are  rather  a  thoughtless  little  body.  But 
the  ankle  was  purely  an  accident.  When  it 
comes  to  the  playing  with  fire,  however,  you 
really  should  have  known  better  than  to  do  such 
a  dangerous  thing.  But  you  have  learned  your 
lesson,  and  now  we  must  be  thankful  the  conse- 
quences are  no  worse." 

Cricket  raised  a  tear-stained  face. 

"  Yes,  only  —  my  dear  baby !  If  only  I  could 
take  all  his  burns !  I  'd  set  fire  to  myself  and 
burn  myself  up,  if  he  could  be  well.  I  did  the 
mischief,  and  he  gets  the  worst  of  it." 

"Indeed,  little  Cricket,"  said  Auntie  Jean, 
softly,  almost  to  herself,  as  she  bent  and  kissed 
her  little  niece,  "  you  will  learn,  as  you  grow 
older,  that  that 's  not  the  least  hard  part  of  all 
the  harm  we  do  —  we  do  the  mischief,  and  the 
one  we  love  best  often  gets  the  burns." 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

AFTEK   THE    SACRIFICE. 

THE  next  few  days  were  not  very  happy  ones. 
Auntie  Jean  had  her  hands  full.  Grandma's 
ankle  was  much  better,  to  be  sure,  but  still  it 
did  not  allow  her  to  walk  or  stand  on  it  but 
very  little,  so  that  she  could  not  be  of  much 
assistance  in  the  nursing  that  followed.  Poor 
little  Kenneth  suffered  greatly  from  his  burns, 
and  his  fever  ran  high,  and  the  very  hot  weather 
made  it  harder  for  him  to  bear.  He  cried  con- 
tinually for  his  mother.  He  had  not  fretted 
for  her,  especially,  while  he  was  well,  but  now 
that  he  was  sick  he  wailed  constantly  for 
"  Mamma." 

Cricket  was  up  and  about,  after  a  day  or  two. 
Her  arms  and  hands  were  still  bandaged,  and 
she  was  very  helpless  about  dressing  and  un- 
dressing herself,  but  she  felt  better  to  be  up. 
She  longed  to  do  something  for  Kenneth,  but 
this  was  impossible,  with  both  arms  in  slings. 
These  were  rather  dark  days  for  the  poor  little 
girl,  for,  on  account  of  the  anxiety  about 


AFTER   THE    SACRIFICE.  345 

Kenneth,  she  received  less  attention  than  she 
otherwise  would  have  had.  She  was  very  grate- 
ful, however,  that  nobody  reminded  her  that  it 
was  chiefly  her  fault. 

Unfortunately,  her  right  hand,  with  which 
she  had  first  clasped  Kenneth,  was  much  more 
seriously  burned  than  the  other.  The  left  hand 
came  out  of  its  sling  at  the  end  of  three  or  four 
days,  and  while  the  arm  remained  bandaged,  she 
could  use  her  fingers. 

"  If  it  was  only  the  other  way,"  she  mourned, 
"  I  could  write  a  lot  of  stories  and  things  for  the 
'  Echo,'  and  my  time  would  not  be  all  wasted." 

"  Learn  to  write  with  your  left  hand,"  sug- 
gested grandma. 

"  Could  I  ?  "  said  Cricket,  brightening.  «  Why, 
why  not?  It  won't  be  like  learning  to  write 
over  again.  I  've  often  tried  it,  only  my  left- 
hand  fingers  don't  seem  to  have  any  push  in 
them." 

"  If  you  practise  half  an  hour  a  day,  you  will 
soon  do  wonders,"  said  grandma,  encouragingly. 
"I  had  a  brother,  once,  who  was  left-handed, 
and  he  learned  to  use  his  right  hand  equally 
well.  He  drew  beautifully,  and  would  often 
work  with  a  pencil  in  each  hand.  Not  only 


346  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

that,  but  I  have  often  seen  him  write  with  one 
hand  and  draw  with  the  other." 

"  Is  n't  that  wonderful  ?  "  exclaimed  Cricket. 
"  I  '11  begin  to  practise  this  minute,  Eunice,  if 
you'll  get  me  paper  and  pencil,"  she  added, 
eagerly. 

She  worked  busily  for  a  few  minutes,  in 
silence,  after  the  materials  were  brought  her. 

"  It  looks  exactly  like  Zaidee's  writing,"  she 
said,  at  length,  in  disgust,  after  her  first  few 
attempts.  She  wrote  a  firm,  pretty  hand  for  a 
girl  of  her  age,  and  these  shaky,  disjointed 
letters,  sprawling  across  the  page,  were  very 
discouraging. 

"  It  looks  like  the  tracks  of  a  crazy  ant,"  she 
said,  half  laughing. 

"  If  you  practise  faithfully  for  a  few  days  you 
will  find  they  will  look  like  the  tracks  of  a  very 
sane  ant,"  said  grandma.  "  And,  besides,  think 
how  much  easier  it  is  to  learn  to  write  with  your 
left  hand  than  with  your  toes." 

"  With  your  toes,  grandma,"  came  in  a  united 
chorus. 

"  Yes,  with  your  toes.  I  knew  of  a  man, 
once,  who  was  born  without  any  arms,  and  — 

"  No  arms  at  all  ?    Not  one  ?  " 


AFTER   THE    SACRIFICE.  347 

"Not  one,"  answered  grandma,  smiling  on 
her  eager  questioner.  "  He  was  the  son  of  a 
very  poor  woman  here  in  the  village.  They 
lived  in  that  little  red  cottage  on  the  Bain- 
bridge  road,  where  you  turn  by  the  four 
oaks." 

"  Without  any  arms !  Did  he  have  shoulders  ? " 
asked  Cricket. 

"  Oh,  yes,  indeed.  I  saw  them  often  when 
he  was  a  baby  —  bare,  I  mean.  The  shoulder 
ended  smoothly  where  the  arms  should  be.  He 
grew  up  a  very  bright  little  fellow.  Running 
barefoot  all  the  time,  as  he  did,  I  suppose  he 
learned  to  pick  up  things  with  his  toes  very 
naturally.  At  any  rate,  when  he  was  eight 
years  old  he  could  even  handle  his  knife  and 
fork  with  his  toes." 

"  Ugh  !  "  shuddered  Eunice,  "Did  he  sit  on  the 
table?" 

"  No,  not  quite  so  bad  as  that.  He  sat  on  a 
little  low  stool,  and  his  plate  was  put  on  the  floor 
in  front  of  him.  He  would  pick  up  his  knife 
and  fork,  cut  up  his  meat,  and  feed  himself  as 
deftly  as  possible.  It  was  very  funny." 

"Think  of  washing  his  feet  before  dinner, 
instead  of  his  hands  !  "  giggled  Cricket. 


348  CEICKET    AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

"  Could  he  get  his  feet  right  up  to  his  mouth  ?  " 
asked  Eunice. 

"  Yes,  easily.     He  was  very  limber." 

Zaidee  instantly  sat  down  on  the  piazza  floor 
and  attempted  the  performance. 

"  It  most  cracks  my  back,"  she  said,  getting 
up  and  trying  to  reach  around  behind  herself  to 
rub  it. 

"7  could  do  it,"  said  supple  Cricket,  who 
could  sit  on  the  floor  and  put  her  legs  around 
her  neck. 

"He  went  to  the  district  school,"  went  on 
grandma,  "  and  learned  to  read  very  quickly, 
and  his  mental  arithmetic  was  really  wonderful. 
Long  examples  that  the  others  did  on  their 
slates,  he  did.  almost  as  quickly  in  his  head. 
One  year,  they  had  a  very  good,  patient 
teacher,  who,  noticing  how  deftly  he  picked  up 
all  sorts  of  things  with  his  toes,  had  the  bright 
idea  of  teaching  him  to  write  by  holding  his  pen 
between  his  toes.  Now  his  toes,  by  constant 
using,  had  grown  longer  and  slenderer  than 
most  people's,  and  in  a  very  short  time  he  could 
guide  a  pencil  sufficiently  to  make  very  legible 
letters.  Quite  as  much  so  as  your  first  attempts 
with  your  left  hand,  just  now,  Jean." 


AFTER   THE    SACRIFICE.  349 

"Think  of  it!"  exclaimed  Cricket.  "I'm 
going  to  try  it  to-night  when  we  go  to  bed, 
Eunice." 

"  It  was  a  funny  sight  to  see  him  get  ready 
for  his  school  work.  When  he  arrived  at  school 
his  brother  washed  and  dried  his  feet  carefully, 
and  put  on  him  an  old  pair  of  loose  slippers  to 
keep  them  clean.  His  slate  or  paper  would  be 
put  on  the  floor  before  him,  and  he  would  slip 
his  foot  out  of  his  slipper,  grasp  his  pencil,  and 
begin.  By  the  end  of  a  year,  he  really  wrote 
wonderfully  well." 

"  Oh-h !  "  sighed  Zaidee.  "  Helen  and  I  prac- 
tised lots,  last  winter,  with  mamma,  and  we 
can't  write  much  now.  We  writed  every  day, 
too." 

"  Where  is  the  man  now  ? "  asked  Eunice. 
"  What  became  of  him?" 

"  When  he  was  a  boy  of  fourteen  or  so,  a 
travelling  circus  manager  heard  of  him,  and 
offered  him  a  large  salary  to  go  with  him  to  be 
exhibited,"  answered  grandma.  "  He  got  a 
large  salary,  and  after  that  helped  support  his 
family.  He  learned  to  do  many  other  things 
with  his  toes,  later,  people  said.  For  instance, 
he  drew  beautifully,  and  could  even  hold  a  knife 


350  CEICKET    AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

and  whittle  a  stick.  The  family  soon  left  here, 
and  I  never  knew  anything  more  about  him. 
So,  my  little  Jean,  are  n't  you  encouraged  to  prac- 
tise writing  with  your  left  hand,  with  good  hope 
of  success  ?  " 

"  Yes,  indeed,  grandma,"  answered  Cricket, 
taking  her  pencil,  and  going  to  work  again, 
awkwardly  but  energetically.  And  I  may  just 
say,  in  passing,  that  she  worked  to  such  good 
effect,  that  in  ten  days'  time  her  left-handed 
writing,  though  it  slanted  backward,  was  firm 
and  legible. 

"  There ! "  exclaimed  Cricket,  with  a  long 
sigh,  after  her  first  half -hour  was  over,  as  she 
rose  to  stretch  her  arm  above  her  head,  "  I  've 
written  so  long  that  I'm  so  tired  that  I  can 
hardly  put  one  foot  before  the  other." 

"  That  would  be  a  more  appropriate  senti- 
ment if  you  were  my  no-armed  man,"  said 
grandma,  smiling. 

"  I  'm  just  wild  with  keeping  still,  grandma ! 
Resting  makes  me  so  tired.  I  want  to  go  row- 
ing or  riding  or  walking.  I  'd  like  to  jump  over 
the  moon,  as  far  as  my  feelings  go,  but  it  makes 
my  arm  ache  if  I  move  round  much." 

"  Read  aloud  to  us,"  suggested  grandma,  "  and 


AFTER    THE    SACRIFICE.  351 

perhaps  Eunice  will  hold  the  wool  for  me  while 
you  do." 

Cricket  liked  to  read  aloud,  and  she  got  a 
book  very  willingly. 

"  Here 's  a  lovely  story,"  she  said,  "  all  about 
battles  and  fighting,  and  exciting  things.  '  How 
Captain  Jack  Won  His  Epauplets.'  " 

"  Won  his  —  what  ?  "  asked  grandma,  holding 
her  ball  suspended. 

"  His  epauplets.  He  was  just  a  plain,  every- 
day soldier,  you  know,  to  start  with." 

"  Oh !  won  his  epaulets,  you  mean,"  said 
grandma,  gravely. 

"  Won  his  —  oh,  of  course !  how  stupid  of 
me  !  "  looking  more  closely  at  the  word.  "  Now 
I  've  always  thought  that  word  was  epauplets, 
grandma,  truly  I  did." 

"  Go  on  and  begin,"  said  Eunice ;  "  how  did 
he  win  them  ?  " 

The  reading  proceeded  quietly  for  a  time. 
Eunice  held  the  wool,  grandma  wound  it  off, 
and  Zaidee  and  Helen  played  tonka  on  the 
piazza  steps.  Tonka  was  a  little  Japanese  game 
on  the  order  of  jackstones,  only,  instead  of  hard, 
nobby  stones,  that  spoil  the  dimpled  knuckles, 
tiny  bags  of  soft,  gay  silk,  half  full  of  rice,  are 


352  CRICKET   AT   THE    SEASHORE. 

used.  Six  little  bags  are  made  with  the  ends 
gathered,  and  one  more,  the  tonka,  is  made  flat 
and  square  of  some  different  coloured  silk,  to 
distinguish  it,  as  the  gay  little  bags  fly  up  and 
down.  It  was  a  very  favourite  amusement  with 
all  the  children.  Eliza  was  with  Kenneth,  and 
auntie  was  lying  down,  for  the  poor  baby  had 
been  wakeful  and  in  much  pain  the  night  before, 
and  auntie  had  had  little  sleep. 

Nearly  an  hour  slipped  by,  when  suddenly 
grandma  stopped  Cricket. 

"  How  quiet  the  children  are.  Are  they  there 
still  ?  "  turning  to  see.  Eunice  looked  up  also. 

"  Dear  me,  I  have  n't  thought  of  them  for  a 
long  time.  They  've  slipped  off.  I  suppose 
I  ought  to  go  and  see  what  Zaidee's  doing,  and 
tell  her  she  must  n't,"  and  Eunice  lay  down  her 
work.  She  had  had  to  have  much  care  of  the 
younger  ones  these  last  few  days. 

"  I  '11  go,  too,"  said  Cricket,  getting  up  gladly. 
"  'Scuse  us,  please,  grandma,  for  leaving  you  all 
alone." 

Cricket  had  scarcely  ever  been  ill  a  day  in  her 
life,  not  even  with  children's  diseases,  which  she 
had  always  escaped,  and,  in  all  her  adventures, 
she  was  very  rarely  hurt.  Therefore,  pain  was 


AFTER   THE    SACRIFICE.  353 

a  very  dreadful  thing  to  her.  She  bore  it 
bravely,  but  it  was  strange  to  see  her  looking 
so  pale  and  heavy-eyed.  But  these  few  days  of 
suffering  were  teaching  her  many  things. 

Eunice  and  Cricket  heard  the  sound  of  the 
children's  voices  as  they  turned  the  corner  of 
the  house. 

"  Oh,  they  're  all  right,"  said  Eunice,  relieved. 

Just  back  of  the  house,  in  a  tiny  little  shed, 
built  especially  for  it,  stood  a  big  barrel  of  kero- 
sene. It  was  kept  outside,  because  grandma  was 
very  much  afraid  of  the  possibility  of  fire.  Once, 
in  an  unlucky  moment,  the  waitress,  Delia,  in 
drawing  the  oil  into  a  small  can  to  be  carried 
into  the  house,  had  yielded  to  Zaidee's  entreaty, 
and  had  let  her  turn  that  fascinating  little 
spigot.  After  that  the  twins  made  several 
private  expeditions  to  the  barrel,  but  as  the  spigot 
was  kept  locked,  of  course  they  could  not  turn 
it.  It  chanced  that  this  morning  Delia  had 
drawn  the  oil  in  a  hurry,  and  had  forgotten  to 
turn  the  catch  in  the  spigot  that  locked  it. 

Zaidee  and  Helen,  prowling  around  for  some- 
thing to  do,  chanced  to  come  past  the  barrel, 
and  Zaidee  tried  the  faucet.  To  their  rapture 
a  spurting  stream  of  oil  instantly  poured  out. 


354  CKICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

An  old  dipper,  lying  near  by,  was  immediately 
seized  upon,  as  something  to  fill,  and  all  the 
flower  beds  that  were  near  by  were  well  watered 
with  kerosene.  Next,  they  spied  a  small  churn, 
which  Bridget,  the  cook,  had  just  put  out  in  the 
sun  to  dry.  This  was  an  opportunity  not  to  be 
neglected,  and  the  next  dipperful  of  kerosene 
went  splash  into  Bridget's  clean,  white  churn. 
Up  and  down  went  the  dasher,  worked  by  these 
eager  hands,  while,  behind  them,  the  kerosene 
still  poured  from  the  barrel. 

"  Yes,  they  're  all  right,"  repeated  Eunice. 
"  They  're  only  working  the  churn  -  dasher  up 
and  down.  Probably  Bridget  left  some  water 
in  it  to  soak." 

"  Come  over  here,"  called  Zaidee,  hospitably. 

"  We  're  making  butter,  Eunice." 

Eunice  drew  a  little  nearer,  then,  suddenly, 
she  stopped,  sniffed,  and  darted  forward. 

"  Children,  what  have  you  there  ?  " 

"Caroseme,"  responded  Zaidee,  promptly. 
"  We  drawed  it  from  the  pretty  little  fountain  in 
the  barrel." 

Eunice  turned  hastily  towards  the  "  caroseme  " 
barrel,  then  flew  towards  it.  As  the  barrel  had 
been  lately  filled  there  was  plenty  in  it,  still,  and 


AFTER   THE    SACRIFICE.  355 

it  was  flowing  merrily,  while  a  pool  of  kerosene 
lay  over  the  board  floor. 

"  Goodness  gracious  me  !  How  shall  I  ever 
get  in  there  to  turn  it  off  ?  "  cried  Eunice.  I 
can't  step  in  it  ? " 

"  Let  Zaidee  do  it.  She  's  soaking  already 
with  it.  Zaidee,  come  here,  directly,  and  turn 
this  kerosene  off." 

Zaidee  came  up  cheerfully,  and  waded  in,  re- 
gardless of  her  shoes. 

"  It 's  too  bad  to  turn  it  off,  when  it  looks  so 
pretty,"  she  said,  regretfully. 

"  You  are  naughty  children,"  said  Eunice, 
severely,  arraying  the  guilty  twins  before  her, 
when  this  was  done.  "  Whatever  shall  I  do  with 
you?  I  can't  take  you,  all  dripping  like  that, 
into  the  house  to  Eliza,  because  she  's  with  Ken- 
neth, and  auntie's  lying  down,  and  I  don't 
suppose  Delia  would  know  what  to  do  with 
you." 

"  Hang  them  both  up  over  the  clothes-line  to 
dry,"  suggested  Cricket,  darkly  eying  the  chief 
culprit.  "  Dear  me  !  how  you  do  smell !  " 

"  I  don't  like  it  pretty  well,"  admitted  Zaidee, 
sniffing  at  her  hands.  "  I  want  to  go  in  and  get 
us  washed  off  now." 


356  CRICKET    AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

"  No,  stop,"  commanded  Eunice,  as  Zaidee  was 
starting  off.  "  You  would  ruin  everything  you 
touched,  I  suppose.  You  're  reeking  wet.  You 
can't  go  into  the  nursery,  for  you  must  n't  dis- 
turb Kenneth.  Auntie  said  particularly  that  we 
must  n't  even  make  any  noise  around,  so  he  can 
sleep.  What  shall  I  do  with  you  ?  " 

"  I  '11  tell  you,"  suggested  Cricket,  the  ever- 
ready.  "  Take  them  down  to  the  Cove  and  put 
them  in  the  water  just  as  they  are,  and  wash  off 
the  worst  of  it.  Then  you  can  take  off  their 
clothes  and  leave  them  down  there  in  the  bathing- 
house,  for  'Liza  to  look  after  when  she  can." 

"  Perhaps  that  might  do.  I  could  put  on  my 
own  bathing-suit  and  take  them  in,  and  wash  off 
the  outside,  anyway." 

"  Yes,  let 's,"  cried  Zaidee,  scampering  off  in 
high  feather  at  the  delightful  possibility  of  going 
into  the  water  all  dressed,  "  just  like  a  dog." 

"  Grandma  would  n't  care,  would  she  ?  " 

"  There  's  nothing  else  to  do.  You  go  on  and 
I  '11  tell  her.  My  arm  aches  so  that  I  can't  walk 
over  there,"  said  Cricket,  turning  away,  very  dole- 
fully. She  did  n't  like  to  miss  the  fun  of  ducking 
those  naughty  children.  She  watched  them  out 
of  sight. 


AFTER   THE    SACRIFICE.  357 

"  But  it  is  n't  really  a  bit  worse  of  Zaidee  to 
turn  that  spigot,  and  play  with  the  oil,  than  it 
was  for  me  to  play  with  the  fire,"  she  said,  hon- 
estly, to  herself,  as  she  walked  slowly  back  to 
grandma.  "  I  can't  say  much.  But  it  is  funny 
how  much  badder  things  seem  in  other  people, 
when  they  're  really  just  as  worse  in  our- 
selves." 

And  with  this  not  very  lucid  statement  of  an 
undeniable  fact,  Cricket  walked  up  the  piazza 
steps  and  informed  grandma  of  the  state  of 
affairs. 

Half  an  hour  later  Eunice  appeared,  driving 
a  pair  of  depressed  looking  children  before  her, 
clad  only  in  their  little  blue  bathing-suits. 

She  was  hot  and  flushed,  Zaidee  cross  and  re- 
bellious, and  Helen  tearful  and  subdued.  Eunice 
had  found  that  the  plan  of  washing  oily  children, 
with  all  their  clothes  on,  was  much  easier  in 
theory  than  in  practice.  And  such  a  task  as  it 
had  been  to  get  their  dripping  clothes  off !  Wet 
buttonholes  refused  to  open,  shoestrings  knotted 
hopelessly,  and  everything  stuck  flabbily  together. 

Auntie  Jean  was  with  little  Kenneth  again,  so 
Eliza  was  at  liberty  to  take  the  children  in  hand, 
but  before  they  went  off,  grandma  said,  very 


358  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

gravely,  to  them,  that  they  were  to  go  directly  to 
bed  for  two  whole  hours,  so  that  they  might  have 
a  quiet  time  to  think  over  the  mischief  they  had 
done. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

THE    END    OF    THE     SUMMER. 

Two  weeks  later  everything  was  running  again 
as  usual.  Kenneth,  quite  recovered,  was  as 
lively  as  possible,  though  he  was  a  funny  look- 
ing little  object,  with  his  lovely  golden  curls,  to 
everybody's  great  grief,  cropped  as  close  to  his 
head  as  a  prize-fighter's. 

"  If  it  only  will  grow  out  a  little,  before 
mamma  gets  home,"  mourned  Cricket.  "He 
looks  so  ridiculous.  He  looks  just  like  the 
sheep,  after  Gustus  John  has  sheared  them. 
Even  the  little  lambs  don't  know  their  own 
mothers,  sometimes,  auntie,  after  they  're 
clipped.  Oh  !  "  clasping  her  hands  in  horror  at 
a  new  thought.  "Do  you  suppose  mamma 
won't  even  know  Kenneth  ?  " 

"  He  does  n't  look  much  like  himself,  cer- 
tainly, but  I  don't  fancy  that  there 's  the  least 
danger  that  his  mother  won't  know  him  instantly," 
said  auntie,  comfortingly. 

"  I  'm  so  glad,"  said  Cricket,  with  a  sigh  of 


360          CKICKET   AT   THE    SEASHORE. 

relief,  "  if  you  really  think  so.  But,  anyway, 
he  's  the  sheepiest-looking  child." 

But,  fortunately,  his  burns  had  healed  beauti- 
fully, and  the  doctor  assured  them  that  he  would 
even  outgrow  every  scar.  Cricket  was  entirely 
herself  again,  with  only  one  deep  scar  across 
her  right  wrist  to  remind  her  of  that  unlucky 
sacrifice  to  the  Jabberwock. 

Edna  was  at  home,  also,  delighted  to  be  back 
with  her  beloved  Eunice.  She  proudly  flourished, 
actually,  two  stories  for  the  "  Echo,"  as  the  re- 
sult of  her  "  banishment,"  as  she  insisted  on 
calling  her  visit.  She  was  so  proud  of  them 
that  she  wanted  to  carry  them  about  with  her 
all  the  time,  and  was  all  impatience  for  the  next 
number  of  the  paper  to  be  ready.  Eunice  had 
been  working  at  it,  during  Edna's  absence,  and 
it  was  all  ready,  excepting  to  print  Edna's  story, 
for  which  space  had  been  left. 

It  was  getting  well  into  September  now,  and 
the  children  were  looking  eagerly  forward  to  the 
return  of  the  travellers,  who  were  to  sail  early 
in  October.  Letters  said  that  mamma  was  im- 
proving so  delightfully  that  she  was  quite  as 
strong  as  ever,  and  that  she  was  looking  for- 
ward with  quite  as  much  impatience  to  seeing 


THE    END    OF   THE    SUMMER.  361 

the  children  again  as  they  could  have  to  see  her. 
The  children  did  n't  quite  believe  this,  though. 

"  She  could  n't  be  glad  as  I  am,"  said  Cricket, 
positively.  "  If  she  were  she  would  just  simply 
burst.  Of  course  we  're  gladder  to  see  her  than 
she  could  be  to  see  us,  because  she  's  mamma, 
and  we  're  only  just  the  children  !  I  'm  chock 
full  of  gladness !  "  and  Cricket  gave  an  ecstatic 
caper  as  she  waved  the  letter  that  definitely  set 
the  date  of  the  travellers'  return. 

"  Look  out,  Cricket,"  said  Eunice,  hastily, 
"  that 's  the  second  time  you  've  nearly  knocked 
my  ink  over,"  rescuing,  as  she  spoke,  the 
fresh,  fair  copy  of  the  "  Echo,"  to  which  she  was 
giving  the  finishing  touches,  for  the  afternoon's 
reading. 

"  Please  excuse  me,  but  I  'm  so  happy !  Oh, 
auntie,  it's  worth  while  to  have  mamma  and 
papa  go  to  Europe  and  miss  them  so,  when  you 
are  so  gladder  than  glad  when  they  come  back." 

"  Now,  I  really  flattered  myself  that  you  had 
been  tolerably  contented  here,  this  summer," 
said  Auntie  Jean,  pretending  to  look  aggrieved. 
"  I  'm  very  sorry  that  you  've  been  so  wretched." 

"  Wretched  !  I  have  n't"  said  Cricket,  giving 
auntie  a  rapturous  hug,  and,  at  the  same  time, 


362          CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

sending  her  heels  kicking  out  behind,  like  a 
little  wild  pony.  "  I  've  had  an  awfully  good 
time." 

"  Cricket ! "  shrieked  Eunice,  "  you  knocked 
over  the  ink  at  last ! "  She  snatched  up  the 
"  Echo  "  just  in  time  to  save  it  from  an  inky  bath. 
"Hand  me  that  blotter,  Edna.  Never  mind, 
auntie,  for  it's  mostly  on  the  newspapers. 
Cricket,  you  are  the  ink  -  spillingest  girl ! " 
scolded  Eunice,  scrubbing  and  cleaning  as  she 
talked.  "  Yesterday  you  knocked  it  out  of  the 
window,  and  only  the  other  day  you  had  it  all 
over  the  piazza-floor." 

Cricket  looked  much  depressed,  as  she  helped 
Eunice  repair  damages. 

"  I  rather  guess  you  '11  be  too  relieved  for  any- 
thing to  see  the  last  of  me,  grandma,"  she  said, 
mournfully.  "  I  never  saw  anybody  like  me. 
I  never  mean  to  do  things,  and  then  I  go  and  do 
them.  I  don't  see  how  you  've  stood  it  all  sum- 
mer, anyway,  with  such  racketting  children 
around,  I  truly  don't." 

"You've  been  a  pretty  obedient  set,"  said 
grandma,  patting  the  hand  that  stole  around  her 
neck.  "And  when  children  are  obedient  and 
truthful,  one  can  excuse  a  great  deal  else.  In- 


THE   END    OF   THE    SUMMER.  363 

deed,  I  shall  miss  my  flock  exceedingly,  I  assure 
you,  in  spite  of  your  ink-spilling  tendencies." 

"  Even  if  I  did  sprain  your  ankle  ? "  whispered 
Cricket,  very  softly,  "and  burn  up  Kenneth's 
hair  ?  and  break  through  the  plaster  in  your 
ceiling,  and  lots  of  other  things  ?  " 

"  Yes,  in  spite  of  it  all,"  whispered  grandma, 
back  again,  just  as  softly.  "  Because  I  never 
knew  you  to  do  anything  I  told  you  not  to  do, 
and  whatever  you  tell  me,  I  know  is  exactly 
true." 

"  You  're  such  a  beautiful  grandma !  "  said 
Cricket,  with  a  hug,  and  then  she  pranced  off. 

Zaidee  and  Helen  came  toiling  up  from  the 
beach,  with  their  arms  full  of  dolls.  Zaidee 
dropped  down  on  the  top  piazza-step. 

"  Auntie  Jean,  I  'm  all  in  such  a  pusferation," 
she  sighed.  "  It 's  so  much  work  to  take  care  of 
such  a  lot  of  children  as  I  have.  I  wish  I  had 
a  little  live  nurse  to  help  me.  Could  n't  I  ? " 

"  Take  Cricket,"  suggested  Auntie  Jean.  "  She 
wants  something  to  do." 

"  No,  I  thank  you,"  said  that  young  woman, 
decidedly.  "I'm  glad  /  don't  have  to  follow 
Zaidee  up  all  day." 

"And  I  wouldn't  have  you,"  returned  Zaidee, 


364          CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

with  equal  decision.  "  You  tooked  up  my  Bea- 
trice by  the  neck,  and  it  hurted  her.  She  told 
me  so.  I  don't  want  you  for  my  dollie's  nurse, 
or  for  my  nurse,  either." 

"  Your  nurse ! "  exclaimed  Cricket.  "  I 
wouldn't  be  'Liza  for  anything!  I'd  as  soon 
take  care  of  a  straw  in  a  high  wind,  as  take  care 
of  you." 

Auntie  Jean  laughed,  and  drew  Cricket  down 
into  her  arms. 

.  "  Did  you  ever  think,  honestly,"  she  whis- 
pered, "  that  Zaidee  is  a  little,  just  a  little,  like 
one  of  her  older  sisters?" 

"  Oh,  she  's  not  so  bad,"  responded  Cricket, 
instantly.  "  But  because  she 's  like  me  is  no 
reason  I  like  it  any  better.  I  like  it  all  the 
worse.  Besides,  I  don't  set  up  to  be  a  polygon." 

Hereupon  Auntie  Jean  laughed  until  grandma 
demanded  to  know  what  the  joke  was,  and  why 
they  were  talking  secrets. 

"  No  secrets,"  answered  auntie,  wiping  her 
eyes.  "  Cricket  was  only  telling  me  that  she 
did  n't  set  up  to  be  a  paragon." 

Cricket  flashed  a  quick  glance  at  auntie, 
caught  her  eye,  and  nodded  her  thanks. 

"There's   George   Washington,"  she  hastily 


THE    END    OP   THE    SUMMER.  365 

remarked,  changing  the  subject.  "  Come  here, 
sir,  and  play  a  little.  You  've  been  as  sober  as 
a  judge  lately.  I  haven't  seen  you  run  after 
Martha  for  perfect  ages." 

The  September  days  slipped  by,  until  the  first 
of  October  was  just  at  hand.  It  was  arranged 
that  Auntie  Jean  should  go  and  get  the  house 
in  town  in  readiness  for  the  family's  return. 
At  first  she  expected  to  go  alone,  but  the  girls 
begged  to  go  with  her,  and  finally  she  concluded 
to  take  them. 

Will  and  Archie  had  already  gone  back  to 
Philadelphia,  on  account  of  their  school,  so  this 
arrangement  would  only  leave  the  younger  ones 
and  Eliza  with  grandma  for  a  few  days  longer. 

Then,  oh,  joy !  that  blessed  Auntie  Jean  fur- 
ther decided  that  she  would  take  them  all  down 
to  New  York  the  day  before  the  steamer  was  due, 
so  that  they  might  have  the  earliest  possible 
glimpse  of  the  family.  Was  not  all  this  enough 
to  fill  any  little  girl's  cup  of  bliss  to  overflowing  ? 

For  once,  reality  surpassed  anticipation.  Such 
excitement  for  the  last  week  in  packing  up ; 
such  walks  and  rows  and  drives  between  times ; 
such  a  fine  number  of  the  "  Echo,"  to  wind  up 
with  ;  such  a  funny  farewell  call — laden  with  all 


366  CRICKET   AT    THE    SEASHORE. 

manner  of  good  things — to  the  old  woman,  who 
was  still  overcome  by  the  thought  that  she  had 
seen  Miss  Cricket ;  then  such  parting  hugs  and 
kisses  for  dear  grandma  and  the  children ;  such 
hand-shakings  with  old  Billy,  who  distributed 
peppermints  like  a  red  and  white  snow. 

Then  came  the  jolly  three  days'  picnic  in  the 
empty  house  in  town.  The  three  girls  thought 
that  they  rendered  perfectly  indispensable  aid  to 
auntie  and  the  maids,  in  opening  the  house,  get- 
ting off  holland  covers,  and  arranging  everything, 
till  it  was  all  in  apple-pie  order  for  the  home- 
comers. 

Then  came  the  last  and  loveliest  treat, — the 
delightful  trip  to  New  York  in  the  night  boat, 
and  the  vast  importance  of  the  thought  of  going 
to  meet  their  European  travellers.  They  dis- 
cussed them,  as  if  they  had  been  gone  ten  years, 
at  least.  Eunice  wondered  if  she  would  know 
Marjorie,  and  if  Donald's  mustache  would  be  as 
long  as  papa's,  while  Cricket  was  a  little  afraid 
that  they  might  have  forgotten  how  to  talk 
English. 

The  steamer  was  not  due  till  late  in  the  after- 
noon, so  that  they  had  the  day  before  them,  and 
a  day  crammed  with  good  things  it  was.  Al- 


THE    END    OF    THE    SUMMER.  367 

though  they  had  often  been  there  before,  the 
children  immediately  voted  for  Central  Park  and 
the  Metropolitan  Museum  first.  Then  they 
visited  some  of  the  great  stores,  and  then  lunched 
at  Delmonico's.  In  the  afternoon  they  went  for 
a  long,  lovely  ride  up  Riverside  Park,  and  then, 
at  last,  came  the  crowning  joy  of  watching  the 
steamer's  arrival. 

"  There 's  mamma ! "  shrieked  Cricket,  regard- 
less of  the  crowd  about  her,  as  the  great  steamer 
swung  into  her  moorings,  and  in  five  minutes 
more  everybody  was  being  rapturously  hugged 
by  everybody  else. 

THE    END. 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


